One day, Erin woke up to find out that the weather had changed!
"Shit, it's fucking freezing!" she exclaimed, the forecast for the day reading at a brisk 48 degrees Fahrenheit.
So she put away her summer clothes, and all that would remind her of the season.
"Goodbye, v-neck teeshirt!" she lamented, knowing she'd have to avoid low cut tops for the winter.
"Farewell, open-toed five inch heels!" she cried, remembering all the looks she garnered as she walked down the thoroughfare.
"Until next year, denim mini-skirt!" she wept openly, sad that she had to retire something that drove her boyfriend absolutely mad.
She stowed away her seasonal revealing wardrobe, sad that her favorite time of year was over. But then she remembered!
"Fuck!" she ejaculated. "I have a completely bitchin' coat that my studly boyfriend Harrison bought me last winter!"
She was now excited, her emotions playing a complete turnaround as she recalled how delicious she looked in the completely bitchin' coat her studly boyfriend Harrison bought her, even whilst covered from chin to toe.
She dug through her closet, unearthing ancient tees, thongs lost to dying civilizations, and expansion packs of World Of Warcraft until she found it.
"Son of a bitch," she breathed, "This is a totally rad motherfucker."
She put on the coat, and soon she was fully buttoned and buckled, a knee length wool trench that screamed to the world in a deep violet hue, telling all who gazed that in this purple spy jacket was one SEXY BITCH.
She admired her bodacious figure in the mirror for a while, but then she realized!
Something was not right!
She fretted for a moment, but then suddenly knew what it was. She dialed her studly boyfriend Harrison on her cellular phone.
"Harrison! Listen, my muscular sex jockey!" she demanded his attention with a stern, commanding intonation. Harrison sat straight to attention, he knew what followed was to be of great importance. "I need new motherfucking boots!"
Harrison paused, puzzled for a moment. Then he recalled that Erin had destroyed her previous boots, two feet of black tubular sex appeal, from the constant strutting and extreme sexy paces that she demanded of any footwear. He immediately appeared by her side, keys to his SUV that was in no way a form of compensation in hand!
"Then let us go to the goddamn mall motherfucker!"
=====
The mall was an imposing place, filled with screaming toddlers and angry fatties having midlife crises, but Erin, in her infinite sexy wisdom, knew exactly where to go.
"To the Macy's Shoe Department, you cock-wobbling hooker!" she shouted to nobody in particular, kicking the door to the department store down in her reliable, but seasonably inappropriate flats.
They came upon boots, and boots aplenty there were! Tall, short, pointy toed, but none were to Erin's Goddamn liking!
"These are too big!" she sighed, "And there are too many that are too damn small that appear to have no stamina!"
"And these appear to be able to stretch all the way up mid thigh, but upon second inspection the zipper and fold is only decorational!" Harrison openly wept, not ready to dismiss his fantasy of Erin dressing as Uhura from the Classic Star Trek.
But then she saw them!
Tall, sleek, dark and equipped with four inch heels, Erin grabbed a hapless salesman and demanded a size 8, perhaps 8 and a half. When they arrived, she tore the tissue from the inner sole and quickly donned the store's thin pantyhose constructed foot condom, pulling her new knee-high love all the way on.
She stood, and gave an experimental walk around the department, checking out her lucious ass in every mirror, and making sure to show off for Harrison.
"Damn," Harrison thought. "Bitch know how to strut!"
Erin was excited, she knew now that these were what she wanted. But even after saving for a goddamned long time, and building a bank account from her payscale that would make HLN's financial advisers stand in awe, she was not sure if she should commit to these totally bitchin' rad boots!
Harrison, desperate to see Erin in such jaw-dropping everyday wear, had almost lost hope, when a salesman decreed that a twenty-percent off sale was still in effect! Erin bit her lower lip in quick contemplation, forcing Harrison to cross his legs for sake of public decency, when she made a snap judgement!
"I'll do it! Let me pay for these rad-ass motherfucking boots! And then I shall wear them out the door! And we'll celebrate with some goddamned titty-fucking pumpkin spiced lattes!"
And even though it was fall, the sun shone in goddamned celebrational happiness, for Erin had bought new fucking boots!
Harrison based this on true events, more or less, and is now pretty goddamned drunk.
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