Member-only story
Sex humor
I’m Addicted to Being Sexy
Since the age of too young to mention, I’ve had a level of horniness that should match a New York City ten.
Your girl is an Indiana five. Seven if I really try.
I’ve tried for years to figure out where I fit in on whatever scale.
I’m not a Goth Mommy (look it up, nerd), but I have spiky boots and dark makeup and love wearing black.
I’m not a country girl; in fact, I’d rather die. But I do like Eric Church and some of those other boot-wearing shit stompers.
I’m not a PTO mom, but I wear all the school gear and am one of the loudest moms in the stands at any event my kids are involved in.
I’m not glam. But I do like makeup sometimes.
I’m not super smart, but I know a few things.
See, I’m a mix of all those types, but just a little bit of each one, sorta making me a blob of nobody knows what the fuck.
I know what you want to say. “But Ginger, everyone is beautiful in their own way.”
I agree, but also fuck off, because ya’ll just say that to ugly people.
I’m not hot like Scarlett Johansen. I’m not classically pretty like Anne Hathaway. I’m not naturally beautiful like Jennifer Garner.
