Some chicks I took from a distance for basic are now sitting on this wooden walkway, against the red fence over which I and anyone can look downward onto the terrestriality of Freetown Christiania, and I can see the enormous intricate tattoos one of them has running the lengths of her thighs and that the other is sharing an apple with her dog. They’re just naturally that blonde; it’s not a choice they make that correlates to a bunch of other choices I might infer they make, too.

If I start to make these private musings public, perhaps some sort of THE FOLLOWING POST CONTAINS SOCIAL PREJUDICE warning will be in order. Or maybe just a note at the bottom that I considered it and ultimately settled on a note at the bottom.