*wakes early, checks time, sees date*
My waking thought on turning 40
Find A Toilet Paper Alternative In These Trying Times
The Toilet Paper Dystopia
We are currently living in an alternate reality where people are fighting it out over the humble bog roll. No one really knows why the prospect of a virus not unlike the flu is inspiring such desperation. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. We know we might be faced with a couple of weeks quarantine and that we will therefore require 17 rolled of TP per person, per day. Or something. For reasons. Not sure. But everyone else is doing it. Maybe we’re gonna have to eat it?
Are you caught up in the toilet paper panic? Wondering what sort of toilet paper alternative is out there as you stare in dismay at the empty shelves? Are you wondering how your family will polish their posteriors if the pandemic hits? Look no further, Aunty Amy has your back (or behind, if you prefer!)
Buying a house is a journey of self discovery
Buying a house
We bought our house around 18 months ago. I’d been a tenant for many years and to say I was glad to see the back of landlords and property managers would be a vast understatement. Buying a house was a big dream realised; no more uncertainty, no more leases, no more dodgy repairs, no more fighting with agents at the end of lease to get my bond returned. In my own home, I could so many things without anyone else’s permission.
Knock down walls, paint, hang pictures, change stuff around, install things, remove things- whatever the hell I want!
But home ownership is a funny thing and you learn a bit about yourself along the way.
Turns out, I don’t have a no-underwear fetish
Underwear fetish
Everyone has their kinks, their turn-ons, that thing that sets their motor running in some way. Feet, latex, BDSM, role play- you name it and someone is probably into it.
An underwear fetish of some sort is probably one of the more common not-so-guilty pleasures. Seeing people wearing it, wearing it yourself (the fancy kind, I imagine, not your sensible knickers reserved for periods) or, for some, touching it. To each their own, right? No judgement here. Except for the person that once stole my fancy, expensive satin knickers off the washing line. That was many moons ago and they were a scant bit of shimmer that left nothing to the imagination. Now that I think about it, they could have just blown away in a gust of wind. If someone took it upon themselves to pinch them off the line, however, I am judging. Just on the stealing, just so we are clear. I don’t blame them for liking the teensy pants. They were HAWT. But, I digress.
The other common underwear fetish is going completely without them. Freeballing, for those with a certain anatomy. No knickers at all, for the rest of us.