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Nudists are weird. lisafwf@gmail.com

Sunday, September 11, 2011

This Indian Summer

It's hot out and glorious. It's also September. Why do these two things not correlate? I don't know and I don't  particularly care. Because here in little ol' Montreal, sidewalk sales abound and where people's discarded garments go, I naturally follow. It's kind of like dumpster-diving, minus the rotten banana peels and the 5 metre radius of separation which curiously establishes itself between you and all other human beings until your next bath (or sponge-bath for those of you who are REALLY hurtin'). 

I'm telling you this to make a point. Yes, I DO sometimes have a larger purpose when fashioning these nonsensical posts. This one being that you don't have to be rolling in the dough to dress as if you actually have some (dough, I mean) (and by dough I mean money/moula/billz and/or a sugardaddy, although I highly recommend the latter). And in this global-warming-given hot weather, you have no excuse but to hit up your local second-hand store or sidewalk and trade 10 bucks for 10 things. 

So go, go NOW!  NOW, NOW, NOW!!

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