Velocity of girls just want to have fun. That kind of fun, you cannot tell your parents about.
The little world of sharing, loving, giving and receiving which boys would never understand or for that matter be let in. The most important thing they are stripped of.
The delicious details shared over a cup of steaming coffee, talking rapidly and swiftly covering all the subjects of the late late Friday night, or just a Tuesday afternoon. A fork full of cheese cake swaying through the air, accompanying the climax of the gossip.
Oh, that sweet information on his uncoordinated movements and girth, sweet laughter follows. Nods and ‘I knows’. Broken codes of his body language by two gals. Sweet!
Politically incorrect bitchiness over double standards and all the dresses and skirts.
Thank you mummy and daddy for giving me nipples that can lactate. And thanks for hormones which ever bring us girls closer. Thanks to all the boys that broke our hearts and let us take care of each other, pat each others hair and bring chocolate coz he’s a ‘bastard and doesn‘t deserve you!’
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