Feel my feelings, people.
Motherfucker, if you tell me I’m too tall to be wearing these heels one more time, I am going to take off said five inch stilettos, stab them through your eye sockets and into your brain. That’s what I’m thinking, that’s what I want to say, but instead I just smile a half smile and say something along the lines of “I don’t think there’s such a thing as too tall.” I’m approximately five feet eleven inches with bare feet. When I’m strutting my stuff around town in my favorite pair of black wedges I’m a respectable six foot two. So yes, I am tall. It’s quiet obvious that I am genetically gifted in the height department yet I find that most people have the need to point it out to me on an almost daily basis.
“Wow. You’re tall.” Says some random stranger on the street.
“Good detective work…
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