mousehands : ask philip

You might as well face it, she’s addicted to shoes.

Reasoning with her will have no help. Not that her footwear obsession is beyond all hope and help, but rather that she’s imaginary, you raggamuffin rapscallion whipper-snapper! For the love of all things unholy, give the lass a break and let her explore the options available to her very tootsies.

Unlike women, men have but two options when it comes to shoes: brown or black. As depressing as this is, look upon it as a blessing; young Cheryl (I have named her Cheryl, I hope she likes this name. Feel free to imagine something different if she’s more of a Roberta, Helen or Missy Elliot) must spend upwards of twelve hours each and every morning deciding on what size, shape and material her heels are made out of, and that’s one small part of the problem. Leather or patent? Suede or canvas? Fuck me or leave me alone?

Her troubles are endless.