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Ice Castles

What the hell is she wearing? It’s about forty-eight degrees last night and we are at a show and , God help me bite my tongue, but there were two girls backstage who were obviously there for their own reasons. Do you want to build a snowman? No, I propose that they were trolling… for d***. Any swinging d***. Scanning the crowd, on a rotating schedule, for d***. For, possibly celebrity d***. ¬†Scantily traipsing in a white midriff tank top, which look like it was strangling the top half of her body, was also see through. I hope she knew we could see right through that sucker. She knew. I think she was wearing shorts also. I’m not sure because they were so short that I think I saw things only a man she’d date should only see. Unfortunately, I saw it too. I didn’t want to. I’m forever traumatized. Traumatized. It was a reenactment of “Frozen.” She and her half dressed friend were shivering, trying very hard to look as if they weren’t freezing their tuckuss’ off. Fail. Huddled close together. Goose pimples. Olaf would have shown up soon… that’s how cold they looked. Their personal body parts were showing physical signs of cold too. Sigh. Come on ladies, cover up your ice castles. Give the guys something to hunt for. Don’t show them everything, in forty degree weather. Get smart. Trust me, I was surrounded by men last night -Oooo, that sounds dirty, but not that exciting really lol- and they weren’t saying kind things about your fashion choices. I’m not perfect, I like to dress like a whore too from time to time; But, I’m not catching a cold for the sake of ice hole d***-fishing. Let hell freeze over first.

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