I have a scar on my lower back from the time I bounced on a trampoline and landed on one of the springs the wrong way.
I call it my trampoline stamp.
Professional cuddlers probably aren’t going to advertise on Craigslist.
I know this now.
*Walks away with a scar on my back and a missing kidney*
If I had a dollar for every time I’ve woken up in the planetarium, naked except for a clown wig, hungover, next to a dead cat and the shocked stares of a third grade field trip, I’d have…
*counts*
…twelve dollars.
(Don’t you judge me.)