So I don't forget it for Tuesday:
To our therapist, who thinks I shouldn't try to draw power from my sexuality: Say nothing until you have witnessed the most erotic lap dance/striptease ever performed. Because someone (name starts with J) left the Hysteria album on, and Pour Some Sugar on Me came on, and I couldn't resist. The only thing missing was strobe lights.
He remained inarticulate for the next few hours. It's okay though, we weren't doing much talking. And he has a new healthy respect for me. And my strange and wonderful talents. I burned the chicken but I give a nice lap dance. Hey, the perfect girlfriend.
