(obsessed about having never) been caught stealing.
(Emailed to me by M.)The moment I walk into a shop - any shop - I always, always, always assume the frigging alarm is going to go off the moment I walk out. Probably cos it mostly does...   Point being that every second I'm in the shop I'm checking myself to make sure I'm not inadvertently stuffing goods in my pockets or down my bra or pantyhose. On top of that I'm usually scoping out the other patrons waiting for a moment when it will be least embarrassing to have said people turn around to see who that lying, cheating mother fucking scouse is that made the alarm go off.   I reckon I have a m

changery.
Hello.  How are you?I mean it.  I want to know.  Please send me emails about how you are.  Or, more specifically, how you obsess.  *Do* you obsess?  What is it about?  Write that shit out, then, my bitch (said with love), and spread it across the interweb to me in an anonymous email and I shall post it forwith.  Prithee.Won't you please?  I'd hate to think I'm the only one who obsesses about shit.(Only, not shit.  Literally.  I actually *don't,*  surprisingly, obsess about *shit.*  Just everything else under the blasted hot orb in the yellow sky.)Think of it as the new, more lengthy, less photoshoppy post secret.I will l