I get it. You’re tired after carrying me around all day on your back. But my dearest friend, Balthazar, you have to understand something! The temperature might be unbearable and you may drop massive deuces but I’m still the only hot shit in the village. If I don’t put on a show, the townsfolk would be in the dark on just how fabulous it is to be me. Just check me stretched out on your side as you desperately try to catch your breath and a few minutes of shut eye. I still look damn fine! It’s so exhausting isn’t it? Okay, Balthazar. Back on your feet! I’m ready for my evening ride.
Fictitious Fashion: She’s the Friend You Always Wanted
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