I try on every dress in my closet. We settle on two: a really short black one because you can never go wrong with a black dress and a pretty hunter-green one that hugs my curves so well I wonder out loud why I’ve never worn it in public. “Because you’re the picture of modesty,” Katrina says. “Except when you wear those tight tank tops and your titties be tittying.” I frown. “They do?” “Without your consent or knowledge, apparently,” Lex pipes in.
