Inspired by Duncan and Jeff’s conversations in “Bondage and Beta Male Sexuality.”
It wasn’t everybody. It was Britta. He was seeing again the Britta he always loved the best – the one before “Britta-ing” became synonymous with the worst, the one who wore her heart on her sleeve who always took it too far.
But he liked that about her. About how she could mix up Susan B. and Sophie B. and still rise to the occasion in floral Doc Martens.
She might as well have been dressed in that stupid ham costume again, yelling: “Help me heal your heart hole!”