Owasso Police Department fail to safeguard children.

Nex Benedict, a 16-year-old non-binary high school student, loved nature and watching the television show The Walking Dead. Nex enjoyed drawing, reading and playing Ark and Minecraft. Nex also had a cat, Zeus, whom they loved. Nex’s family trace part of their roots to the Choctaw Nation, and were on a journey to understanding more about Nex’s identity – like many other parents of transgender and non-binary youth. On February 7, 2024, Nex was brutally and viciously beaten inside a bathroom at Owasso High School in Owasso, Oklahoma, where Nex was a student. Nex was taken to the hospital and released, only to be readmitted the following day. On February 8, 2024, Nex succumbed to sustained injuries and tragically died.
Wondering where the police were during this incident? Yes, so is everyone else. You can call the Owasso Police Department at 918-272-2244 to ask them. Here’s their website – https://www.cityofowasso.com/161/Police-Department

Police Chief Yancey – public protector or coward?
You can ask the Police Chief why his staff are incapable for protecting children in his region by reaching out to him here –
Dan Yancey
Chief of Police
Phone: 918-376-1564
Sissies need discipline!
A quick tribute to some of our lovely friends and members. Join me on Patreon.
Become a member!Purging – How to stop!
How to avoid purging your wardrobe.

Everyone struggles with this in the early stages of their journey. Those guilty moments of looking at a collection of clothes and saying to yourself ‘what am I doing?’, followed by throwing out sometimes expensive clothes.
You don’t have to do it this way. There’s a few things that will help, and all you need to do is step through this simple process to remove the purging and save yourself some money. So, if you want to end that wasteful process, read this, and act on it.
Step One. Understand this is all about shame. You swing like a pendulum moving from excitement dressing, to shame and regret that you’re doing this in secret. You can start the process of getting past this by understand that there’s nothing shameless about this. It’s simply a part of you longing for fulfillment. The simplest way to start getting over this is to using my hypnosis content. Try this for a start.
Step Two. You are going to need to start understanding what this is about. If it’s more than a passing fetish (and it is if you’re really feeling shame), then you ae going to want to understand more about trans issues, and how it’s perfectly understandable and normal for many of us. You may not be a ‘woman’ but you may feel like one. That’s neither an illness, nor a sin. It may be a signal that there’s something going on you’re going to have to organise in your head. If you listen to some of the videos in my Featured Friends sections you will find that most of us are perfectly normal and reasonable people. We’re not freaks. We’re probably just like you. Below is a video by Contrapoints that’s a fun place to start but gives you some serious things to think about. Listen to it, and then come back to it again a day later and listen to it again. Understand it. This stuff takes time and is a lot to assimilate, but if you’re going to understand this stuff you need to do it.
Step Three. When you purge you’re probably tossing out hyper femme clothes you feel, in a moment of shame, are not ‘you’. You’re going to change how you dress. Instead of buying some excessively feminine clothes, you can by more practical androgynous clothes that move you into a semi femme aesthetic. There will be time to buy the more femme clothes later. That’s not to say you won’t have any super femme clothes, but you will also have some nice simple androgynous clothing. Getting the pastel lambs wool sweater and the more feminine cut jeans will not arouse others concerns, but will allow you to dress in a more androgynous way any time you like. Putting on a little eye makeup is all you need to present much more femme whenever you wish to. You’re not going to toss clothes like that and you won’t feel shame associated with them.
Step Four. This is not meant to be a hard sell. I don’t need to do that, and people in my programs know it’s not my way. However, to send your expensive habit of purging clothes you will help yourself enormously if you join my Premium Program, because it will help you learn more and accept more about yourself. This is all about understanding your gender, and accepting yourself. There’s nothing to be ashamed of about being who you are. So subscribe to the damned program and stop wasting money!
These steps will help, if you do them. If you don’t, well I’ll see you back here when you do it all over again, because this thing doesn’t just stop. It’s part of you.
FD
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Women who love to feminize their men.

The many women who love to feminize their men can now enjoy FionaDobson.com even more. I’ve recently started a new Premium Program just for my lovely women members.
If you’d just like to try the basic program for women you can do so free here.
In the meantime there’s still all the wonderful content from Mistress Meg about women who feminize their men.
For the best in step by step guidance on feminizing your man be sure to check out my program for women.
Become a Patron!Let’s get ready for a new week!
I often get asked to repost this, so I thought it would be a good way to start the week. I know many of my members are currently working from home. I think we could have found the new corporate dress code.
🙂
Fiona
- http://FionaDobson.com
- Fishnet Stockings, High Waist Tights – $8.99
Sylvester needs some help polishing his chopper.
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Clothes Maketh The Man – Part 68 is out.

– Find Part 1 here – Chapter list here –
One of the men detached himself from the group and said, “Let me show you lovely ladies to your rooms.”
“Why all this cloak and dagger stuff,” I asked Annabel quietly as we were led to our accommodation.
“These are very secretive people,” she replied.
Annabell and I followed as our guide chaperoned us through the house, and down a tiled corridor, the atmosphere within feeling cool and comfortable after the heat outside. We followed, and when he opened a door and motioned me to enter a beautifully decorated bedroom I did so.
“You’ll find a few things in the closet here. A dress or two, a swim suit and a selection of shoes and things. Feel free to make use of anything you may find.” He smiled with courteous respect and as I sat on the bed the door closed as he left.
Read on…
Splashing out on lingerie.
Hi,
I have been treating myself to a few enjoyable gifts to myself lately. Victoria’s Secret, and one or two other places have been benefiting from my self indulgence.
On Wednesday, this week I asked Max, my neighbours twenty-year old son, to come with me to a lingerie store. This was admittedly partly to tease him, and partly to teach him a little lesson. He’s been hanging around a lot lately, and seems to spend way too much time at my place. When I am doing yoga he seems to get extremely agitated. When I am working up a sweat he seems unable to stop watching at me.
“Max,” I said to him, “sometimes I don’t know what’s got into you. You spend so much time over here! You might as well help me with some shopping.”
I drove down to the lingerie store with him, and explained, “Things have been so hard lately,” as I smoothed down the skirt I was wearing.
“Don’t you ever feel like,” I searched for words, “…splashing out on some new underwear?”
Max seemed quite overcome by the thought. He carried my bags back to my car once I had bought some new items of hosiery.
Once at home, I took out several boxes of my underwear and asked him to help me sort them into colors and fold them nicely. He seemed very happily engaged in this task when there came a knock on the door downstairs. I asked him to go down and see who it could be.
Max took himself off and some minutes later, when he didn’t return I glanced out of the window to see him clutching at his stomach and heaving into a flowerbed in my garden. This wasn’t going to help the petunias. After all his efforts to keep them looking full and flowery, Ali, my gardener was not going to like that at all.
I opened the window of my bedroom and called down, “Max, are you all right?”
In reply he pointed toward the kitchen and called back “Amanda,” And then staggered off toward the gate to his parent’s house.
I groaned inwardly. Amanda, my wife’s obnoxious friend, had obviously slipped through the perimeter defences. I decided to go downstairs and see what the unbearable woman wanted. I slipped into pair of gender neutral yoga pants and descended the stairs.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with that boy,” Amanda blurted out as I entered the kitchen. Apparently she had got away from work editing Pig and Pig Farmer Weekly a little early today.
“What did you do to the poor lamb, Amanda?”
“I just asked him to help me with something. You see, I’m taking some pain medication for my back. Anyway I’m supposed to,” and at this point she lowered her voice, “use these.” She pulled a package from her sac like handbag.
“And what are these,” I asked not wishing to get too close.
“Suppositories,” she relied, and my stomach turned over.
“And you wanted Max to help you with them?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied in a matter of fact voice. “They’re supposed to bring my temperature down. It’s a side effect of the medication, you see.”
“You don’t think that’s a little odd?” I said, my mind reeling as I stared at the pack on my kitchen counter.
“Is that even a thing?” I made a note to Google suppositories and temperature.
“You don’t understand,” she stammered as though suddenly realising she’d made a horrendous mistake.
“Amanda, I really don’t think you can ask young Max to…”
“It’s the packaging. I can’t get it out of the blister pack,” she protested, suddenly realisng there had been an unfortunate misunderstanding.
“There are some things, Amanda, you just can’t ask people to do!”
“I can’t open the packaging, it’s my fingers. Not with my arthritis!” she protested.
“All the same,” I said doubtfully. “I think you may have scarred Max permanently. He looks pretty traumatised.”
“Oh, my goodness,” she gasped. “You don’t think he thought I wanted him to…” Amanda looked horrified.
“Yes, I do, Amanda. I think you may have left a very damaging and lasting impression on his fragile young mind.”
However, all this is not the main reason I am writing to you this evening. We’ve got some great new content on the website here: http://FionaDobson.com and I’d love to see your comments and questions about it. Go right ahead and make comments on the site, and I’m thrilled to answer them.
Have a great week and remember not to let your temperature get too high.
Fiona
When you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go.

Sylvester informs me that should I ever be caught in an avalanche, I should make a point of peeing myself, so I can figure out which way the gravity takes the pee, and then I will know which way is up, and which down. As you know, Canada has been having some quite hard weather recently, and such pieces of information are very helpful to know. However, I do have a problem with this.
First of all, I don’t think I’ll need any reminding to piss myself if I’m caught in an avalanche. I really don’t! Second, I’m not sure knowing which way is up is going to make a great deal of difference if I’m under a hundred tons of snow at the time.
Sylvester tells me there was one man who was caught in an avalanche in his car, and drank 48 beers while he was trapped in his vehicle which had been rolled over and buried under the snow. He arrived home later covered in urine and told his wife the whole story. Frankly I think he probably made the whole thing up. It sounds to me like a pretty good Friday night out after work at the advertising agency.

I am currently working on a very interesting report for the advertising agency called “Understanding Women Who Love to Feminize Their Men. The Dobson Report.” This will soon be available to my Seahorse members. For those who join my Patreon at the $1 a month level I will make it available as well just for the next 6 weeks. I should be complete with that report in about a week. So, there’s a great reason for you to either join my seahorse level, or my Patreon if you haven’t already done so. In the meantime I want to thank all my Good Gurls, and my Seahorse, Unicorn and Premium Members. I couldn’t do what I do without your support.
And speaking of support, I have recently shelled out for a new phone for Auntie Kittie. She has one those fancy phones that are tethered to the wall to prevent them being stolen. She asked me to buy her a new one because something called ‘the rotary dial’ broke on hers. It all sounds far too technical for me.
Have a lovely week.
Fiona.

Women’s Ski Jacket and Pants Waterproof Windproof Snowsuit – 109.99
Featured Friends – Leeja Miller
From Anita Bryant’s crusade against the gays, to the infiltration of the religious right and moral majority into presidential politics via Reagan, to the election of Donald Trump and the growth of the white supremacy movement in the United States, the anti-trans fervor gripping the United States is the culmination of many disparate hateful groups and movements coming to fruition all at the same time. This is Why Conservatives Are So Obsessed With Trans Kids.
Come and sit on my Zamboni.
Hi,
I am out of breath as I write this. I’ve only just got home after a most disturbing incident. I feel I have to write and tell you about it.
The day started calmly enough. I did my early morning yoga class, and then as I sipped a morning coffee I watched Ali, my gardener, picking figs from a tree I have in the garden. He really is a treasure, and as I went out to check on my bees, who are prodigiously working away producing honey, I could hear him humming a strange tune.
I am finding these summer mornings delightful. It’s my usual practice to wear something simple – a plain tennis skirt, some wedges, and a pastel top. I like to keep things very simple. My brightly colored nail polish sets it all off rather stylishly.
Ali glanced round and saw me in the garden and then fell into silence for a moment.
“Good morning,” he said cheerfully, and carefully selected a juicy fig and handed it to me. “Such a health food, and a perfect one for you.”
“I do appreciate healthy foods, Ali,” I mused as I bit into the succulent fruit.
“That must be how you keep so trim,” he continued. “And is it not written that it is easier for a fat man to enter the kingdom of heaven, than to pass through the eye of a camel.”
I frowned and said, “I don’t think it is written. At least nowhere I’ve read it.”
I do wonder about Ali’s English. He was a professor of botany in Syria, before the terrible crisis over there. However, since coming here he’s been studying English. I’m not quite sure where his difficulty with English begins and his sense of irony ends. I added, “However, that is a perfect fig.”
It really is peaceful in my garden. The ripe fruit and soft early morning sun on my face reminded me how very fortunate I am to live here. Canada is truly a blessed country.
Picking up my bag and cell phone I decided to make the most of the morning, and took Hannibal, my dachshund, for his morning walk. As I strolled down Huckleberry Close I got a call from Sylvester, who has been learning to drive the Zamboni at the local ice arena. He’s really becoming quite skilled. He called to ask if I wanted to have breakfast with him at a café nearby. Naturally I agreed. They do the most delightful croissants, orange juice and coffee. The mother of the family that runs the café keeps bees and brings in her own honey. It’s really most delightful.
And so as Marjory was leaving for work, rather than drive I asked for a lift and rode with her the three miles to the arena, where she dropped me and decided to join us for breakfast. I think that after some years Marjory is warming to me. She still finds me a trifle odd, but she’s been a lot more settled since she started dating my wife’s childhood friend, Amanda.
Marjory and I walked into the huge ice arena, and there across the rink was Sylvester driving the Zamboni. The cool air wafting off the ice was a welcome relief from the heat. When Sylvester looked up he recognized Marjory and I and stopped the big ice grading machine.
“Come on over,” he shouted across the ice. “You want a ride?”
I’ve never been on a Zamboni before, so Marjory and I gingerly stepped out on the ice and tottered across to the vehicle. For those not familiar with the Zamboni, it’s a vehicle driven on an ice rink to resurface the ice. We do this so that the hockey games are played on a very flat surface. Ice has small crenelations if not properly smoothed making it unpleasant to skate, and the Zamboni does the job very well. Sylvester has been learning the skill recently, and now does the occasional turn at the arena cleaning up the surface for the skaters, and preparing it for the ritual slaughter of foreign hockey teams that keeps Canadians so amused. Really, it does. And they just keep coming back for more!
I stepped up onto the vehicle, my little tennis skirt riding a little high as I did so. Marjory followed me, looking a little bemused, and then Sylvester was off and driving around the ice, leaving a smooth glasslike finish behind us.
Now, keep in mind this was very early in the morning, and through the large windows out in the deserted car park I could see Marjory’s solitary car. As we rode around the ice I noticed someone was doing something to Marjory’s little car. The next thing I knew, the car was pulling away toward the exit of the car park.
“Marjory,” I said. “I think someone’s stealing your car!”
She looked out of the window, and sure enough, she shouted, “My car! My car!”
With remarkable composure Sylvester swung the big machine around toward the huge doors of the arena. He hit a remote control and the doors slowly began to open. I have to say I was most surprised at the turn of speed the Zamboni then displayed. Accelerating toward the opening doors Marjory and I clung on to our swarthy friend as the Zamboni flew off the ice and started out across the car park.
“Don’t worry,” said Sylvester, his hair swept back in the morning air as we raced across the car park. “I’ll catch him!”
The little car was exiting the car park and moving out into the slow moving morning traffic. Sylvester piloted the Zamboni skillfully out into the road and we shouted after the car thief, who was becoming increasingly ensnared in the traffic as we maneuvered between lanes, to the surprise of other drivers.
While Marjory called the local police, I hung on to the Zamboni and Sylvester steered us skillfully between cars with startled drivers looking incredulously at us as we navigated down the road in the ice smoothing machine. It’s really not the sort of things you expect to see on the morning commute in 32 degrees of heat (89 degrees Fahrenheit).
As the cars ground to a halt at the traffic lights ahead, a police car appeared and started cutting through the traffic. Marjory was talking to the emergency operator, who relayed her instructions directly to the police cruiser.
A moment later the traffic stopped, police car on one side of Marjory’s car, and Zamboni halted flush with the drivers side. Marjory’s little car was completely boxed in. It was at this point that I decided it might be wise to make myself a little scarce. With a smile to Sylvester and a polite wave to the car thief, who was trying in vain to open the car door, I slipped of the Zamboni and made my way to the sidewalk.
As I left I could hear the sound of other sirens. Likely this would turn into a dogs dinner of police and press and god knows what.
At that moment the appalling Amanda called my cell.
“What on earth’s going on with Marjory? I’m trying to phone her and it just rings and rings,” she said sounding both annoyed and annoying.
“Ahh…. Her phone’s probably in her car.”
“So?” came the reply.
“Well, nothing really…” I wasn’t going to get into that with Amanda.
So, next time someone asks you if you’d like a ride on a Zamboni, keep in mind it may not go the way you planned. So much for breakfast! I’m sure Sylvester and Marjory will be occupied for a while there. I felt it best to hurry home to my kitchen, where I am writing this to you now.
I hope you’re enjoying the site. If you’re not, just come back a couple of days later and you’re likely going to find a whole lot of different content!
Have a lovely week,
🙂
Fiona
My Premium Program For Women is perfect for your wife.



Did you know, my program for women is a thoughtfully created program that will tell your wife precisely how to feminize you? Yes – it’s going to help her give you exactly what you need, and make her feel more dominant and confident.
It’s really a wonderful and very successful program. You can either sign her up yourself for the free program HERE or you can suggest she join it herself.
You’ll be surprised the changes it bring out in you. And she’ll love the way it empowers her. The Premium Program For Women is even more intense. Try it for a month and see how it feels.
Fiona.
Featured Friends – Mia Mulder
Trans Identity, Branding And ASMR
Support Mia here – Http://Patreon.com/MiaMulder
Crossdressing – Keeping it in the family.
Does the family know? Do you share it? There’s a lot of questions about crossdressing, and gender fluid life that are likely to emerge. How does one handle that? Enjoy this discussion with Jules and Lenni, as they explore the subject.
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I’m looking forward to getting felt up in the loft.

Happy New Year to all my members. And what a wonderful time to accept who you are, and create the what you desire! A good start might be to sign up for Auntie Kitties’s Diary and join me as a Good Gurl for just $4.99 a month.
It’s a great time to start doing all those things we’ve been avoiding, like making our house more energy efficient and saving the world. With this in mind Sylvester is helping me install some insulation in the loft.
With so little snow on the local ski hills I can’t help thinking Climate Change is once again proving to be an issue. I said this very thing to Sylvester just the other day.
“I think it’s important we all do our share to reduce our carbon foot prints,” I said to him while in the garden.
I noticed Ali checking the soles of his gardening boots, as I said that.
I continued, “The sooner I get felt up in the loft the better!”
At this point Sylvester made some disgusting comment, but really, what can one do! He really can be quite coarse.
Have a lovely New Year. 2024 is likely to be an exciting one. Pull up your panties and strap in – I said ‘strap in’ – it’s going to be an exciting ride!
Enjoy a little Abba below.
🙂
Fiona
Join as a Good Gurl for 4.99 a month.Featured Friends – Chloe
If you’re early in your gender transition, maybe even just questioning your gender for the first time, where should you go from here?
Well, of course, there is no one “correct” path, but taking some time to reflect on and explore your gender identity can be a great starting point. You might be saying, this sounds great and all but what does that actually look like?
I put together a series of questions that help kickstart the gender reflection process, in the hopes of helping you deepen your understanding of your gender and hopefully gain additional clarity in trying to answer questions like “Am I trans, and if so, how do I know?”
Featured Friends – Lily Alexandre – Why are people Trans?
Kinky Christmas – Mollie Blake.

David — occasionally known as Diana — is preparing for a rather quiet Christmas. The best laid plans…
‘So you’re seriously not going to see your dad this year?’
For a moment David didn’t reply. This would be the first year in a long time not to go home to spend Christmas with his dad. The phone call from the old man, telling him he needn’t bother because of Covid and the Omicron variant, had been a kick in the teeth. All these years, David endured a festive period suppressing his need to be who he really was because he thought his father needed him. Even last year, amid the UK lockdown, David had to steal his way down South to make sure the man wasn’t alone. Now there is no lockdown, yet the words ‘I’m safer without you,’ conveyed his dad’s true feeling—he would rather be alone at Christmas than have his “queer” son spend the holiday with him. The bastard wasn’t even concerned about the safety of his only son. Just his bigoted self!
‘Yes, I’m serious. I’ll have a happy Christmas for a change. I’ve got whisky, gin, mince pies and chocolate.’ He ran his hand over his left breast, the smooth silk of his lilac cami-top teasing him. ‘And I’ll have all the company I need.’

‘You’re kidding, right.’ From Lucy’s lips this was more command than question. ‘My plan’s just been rewritten. I’m coming over.’
David was about to protest but he didn’t get chance to open his mouth.
‘And I want to spend Christmas with Diana, not know-it-all David.’ Her grin bounced down the phone and slapped David on the cheek as only Lucy’s could. ‘Have you got room in your freezer?’
‘Why?’
‘I’m bringing Haagen-dazs – a new duo, Belgian chocolate and vanilla crunch. And you can let Diana know, that will be the only vanilla delight she’ll experience on Christmas day. I’ve got a super-kinky pressie.’
David’s hand moved lower. ‘Ok, see you later.’
It was Christmas Eve and David opened the door to Lucy and her purple mane of thick waves falling over her shoulders.
‘Quick, let me through before this melts and we have to wait for it to go stiff again.’ She fled to David’s kitchen but not before passing her free hand over his crotch and laughing.
From her bag she pulled out the ice cream and popped it straight into the freezer. Then she withdrew a turkey crown big enough to feed them for a week! a bottle of prosecco and another gift bag bulging with gifts wrapped in shiny Christmas paper. She turned to David and beamed.
Now it was his turn. ‘As this is our first Christmas together, I got you a Christmas Eve gift.’
He dipped his hand into his trouser pocket and handed Lucy a small box wrapped in paper decorated with holly and berries.
Shredding the paper with the excitement of a toddler, Lucy discovered exquisite snowflake earrings carved in sterling silver.
‘They’re antique,’ David said.
‘They’re beautiful.’ Lucy proceeded to replace her bling Christmas tree ones with the snowflakes. ‘We’ve got a theme going here.’
David’s curiosity would have to wait until Christmas day.
‘Open this one first.’ It was Christmas morning and Lucy picked the larger present from her gift bag.
They were sitting up in bed, naked after a very “demanding” evening.
David held up a cotton vest top, the fabric imprinted with large snowflakes. In lilac, of course. He slipped it over his head. ‘I need some makeup on,’ he exclaimed after peering at his reflection in the dressing table mirror.
‘Here, you’ll want this.’ Lucy handed over another present.
The wrapping paper ripped off, David rolled up a lipstick to reveal a deep purple colour. It would be a new shade for Diana. He licked his lips with an alluring glint in his eye. ‘Let me see if it suits you.’
He leaned forward and placed his lips over Lucy’s left nipple, leaving a perfect purple “kiss” surrounding her darkened nipple.
With blush and mascara to complete her attire, Diana blew a kiss to her own reflection. ‘I’ll put the turkey in the oven and then you can open your gift.’
‘You knew I had my eye on these in Harvey Nicks!’ Lucy declared, stepping into Jimmy Choo 4 inch stilettos which had been way beyond her budget.
Diana watched with admiration tinged with a touch of jealousy – there was no way David could walk on those. But it didn’t matter. They would have hidden her Christmas-red toenails anyway.
Delving into the gift bag once more, Lucy pulled out parcels containing Terry’s chocolate orange, a bottle of Drambuie and a candle in the shape of a reindeer – soon to come to a fiery end this evening. One box remained. ‘This is to wait until after dinner.’
After preparing the meal to Christmas pop blaring in the background, and eating to Carols from St Paul’s Cathedral, the couple finally retired to the lounge armed with Bollinger and the board game, Risk. Lucy may have been short on stature but she packed a punch and was one tough cookie when it came to world domination, or at least David and Diana’s.
As evening descended and the bedroom beckoned once more, Lucy handed Diana the final gift. Diana fondled the lilac silicone love ring, her fingers tracing the raised snowflakes on the outer ring. She licked her lips and grabbed Lucy’s hand.
‘Wait a sec,’ Lucy yelled, slipping away into the kitchen to return with the erotically delectable Haagen-dazs. The large tub contained far too much for them to eat, but none of it would go to waste.
This was the best Christmas ever.
Wishing Fiona and all her gurls a wonderful, safe and happy Christmas and a New Year free from fear.
Get more Mollie Blake HERE.
Once upon a Christmas Time in the West.
I am thrilled to be spending a little time in Mexico in the beautiful Baja peninsula. I’ll be online most evenings over Christmas and chatting through the website chat function. And no, it’s not a chat bot. It’s really me.
For any of my lovely members wanting to reach out, feel free to come by and say hello.
As I said to Sylvester just today, “I don’t like to think of any of my members struggling over Christmas. I like them to have a place they can come.”
Sylvester then made some obscene comment not worth repeating here. You know he really can be quite coarse.
If you’re feeling at a loose end try some of my Stories or for something a little different have a look at some of my Featured Friends. There’s a load of content there that will keep you entertained. Failing that, just listen to some of the music HERE.
🙂
Fiona.
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