Readers of my blog may have noticed that I have a tendency towards the negative, swearing left and right like a Norwegian sailor and not infrequently engaging in random acts of schadenfreude. And while it may appear that I have a cold, black heart softened only by game cakes, hot men, and Anna Beck, things aren't always as they seem.
Yes, that would be a pair of Finnish-made dancing shoes for a parent and child, and I can't get over how, um, fucking precious those shits are. (the swearing's here to stay)
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
melting
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1 comment:
When I look at those little feet holes, it makes me want to just bite off the Finish child's feet and eat them all up in my tummy. Precious.
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