Lindsay Rae Brown
Lindsay Brown is a freelance writer who loves to give people a chuckle with relatable stories about everyday life.
Marabel Sexpot and the Bathwater Blues
The thing you have to know about me is that I was born under a shooting star. Well, not literally. I was born at the Red Vines regional hospital, but the cool thing about that is the time. It was 12:34 PM. 1-2-3-4, now if that doesn’t mean good fortune, I don’t know what does.
Official Birth-Watcher Seeks Consenting Pregnant Women
Hello, preggos! Firstly, a great big thank you for reading this ad in its entirety. Most of the feedback I've gotten so far has been, well, negative at best.
Three Reasons Why Food Is on the Top of My Resolution List This Year
In truth, I'm not a big resolution gal. I'm more of a, how can I marginally improve my life by making small and subtle positive changes in this new year, kind of person. This strategy has worked out pretty well so far in my 35 years of life because it allows me to think about the future without burdening myself with a lot of high-pressure goals that I know, in my heart, I won't complete.
Boobs On The Web - A Content Creator's Worst Nightmare
At this point, I'm not sure where the fault lies regarding the incident. Perhaps, like many have stated, especially the client who shall remain nameless, I must bear most of the responsibility. Because, at the core of the thing, it was, in fact, my boobies that were revealed across a plethora of social media networks.
A Sexual Coping Mechanism For When Your Spouse Won’t Stop Talking About Trains
It happened one dreary evening as soon as my husband, a train conductor, walked through our front door. To be frank, I didn't even feel that aroused at the time. I was wearing my lime green fuzzy pyjama pants and wondering when the next season of Superstore would be out on Netflix.
Marriage on the Opposite Ends of the Couch
We sit on opposite ends of the couch. Not even our feet touch — it’s as though we are both the north poles of magnets and repelling away from one another. He is storyboarding in a ratty old notebook, and I am writing this in the notes app on my phone. We haven’t spoken in hours. There is this heavy tension between us that isn’t quite approachable, not yet at least.
It Doesn’t Matter How Old I Get, I’ll Always Have a Bowl of Rotting Fruit on My Counter
There is a white porcelain bowl that sits on my counter, just beside the french press that still holds soggy grounds from yesterday’s coffee. On any given day, it accommodates three very brown bananas, a few bruised apples that are quickly turning to mush, as well as the oranges that nobody wants to eat because they are too soft for human consumption.
I Was Sloppily Drunk When I Received the Best Beauty Advice of My Life
When one embarks on a girl's trip to Mexico at 18 with three of her closest friends, there are bound to be shenanigans. Hopefully not dreadful, getting tied up in some Mexican Cartel drug situation type shenanigans, but you know, the normal kind of shenanigans. Is this the most someone has ever used the word shenanigans in an introductory paragraph? I hope so.