Suitcase open, jersey options spread all over the bed, and I still can't decide what I'm wearing to end a thirty-year curse in Kansas City. Come over and help me pick, baby. 😏
Suitcase open, jersey options spread all over the bed, and I still can't decide what I'm wearing to end a thirty-year curse in Kansas City. Come over and help me pick, baby. 😏
Monday reset complete — kickboxing crushed, feet up, and my whole brain is already on making the Patriots pay at Hard Rock. Somebody volunteer for foot rub duty, baby. 😏
Went from party girl to game day in about five hours of sleep — dedication looks good on me anyway. Raiders are walking into my building today and I plan to be the loudest thing in that stadium. Tell me my boys are getting the W, baby. 😏
This party finally figured out who the main event is. Can't stay out too late though — big game in Jersey and I refuse to be hoarse for the wrong reasons. Wish you were here on my arm, baby. 😏
Halloween party tomorrow AND the Raiders landing in Jersey right after — one costume had to cover both jobs. The little whip is purely decorative, I promise. Rate my look, baby. 😏
This team has me too wound up to sleep, so my wand and I are handling it the grown-up way. Third round is on you though, baby — come take over. 😏
Adult woman fresh from the shower in a white towel, bare shoulders, relaxed effortless mood, warm bathroom light.
Wednesday injury report just dropped and half our lineup is held together with tape before the Raiders even land in Jersey. So I'm stretching the frustration out on my mat instead of screaming about it. Come hold my feet down for me, baby. 😏
Still not over that Raiders loss, so I'm booking my own revenge trip to Kansas City — my boys haven't won in that stadium in almost thirty years and clearly someone has to go fix it in person. Come with me, baby. 😏
That Jets win still hasn't worn off — 28-25 never tasted so sweet. Jersey's on and there's absolutely nothing else under it till the Patriots pay up at Hard Rock. Tell me you saw that score, baby. 😏