Filthy Lucre

Now that I, Wiggles, have entered the American workforce, I am learning its hazards. Particularly, how truly dirty money is. I spend my work days counting out large amounts of good old cash to many (presumably grateful) folks. The upshot of rifling these bills has been a hellacious cold. I guess the hand sanitizer at the counter isn’t just for the customers.

Of course, the Lord & Master does not see my runny nose and post-Nyquil wooziness as an impediment to his own carnal pleasures. Especially with Hot Pants arriving by the weekend, he requested, ever so gallantly, that I fulfill my marital obligations. So I did. Never mind that I had a tissue wadded up my right nostril. I did what had to be done.

I am Woman, hear me sneeze.

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