Does this blog make me look fat?

It’s a truth universally-acknowledged that a girl in possession of a good blog must be in want of things to fill it.

But like so many universally-acknowledged truths– for me, it’s a lie.

I don’t want to fill this.
I want to fill myself.

I want to patch up the wrinkles and scars– empty trenches once filled with the things I had.  Hollow pockets echoing the treasures I’ve let slip through the ripped seams of my heart.

There are scratches all over my body, visible and invisible, sharing space in harmonic togetherness, marking battles I never wanted to fight and chunks of flesh I never wanted to surrender.

When I went away– when I got far enough away– I thought I’d never come back to this story.

In these pages, I contort myself in front of a camera at the crack of dawn, trying to capture myself in the worst possible light.  In these chapters, I dig through thrift stores and sculpture gardens, searching for magic.

For the blog, I tell myself.  I need to do this for the blog.

It’s my favorite lie to tell.

The truth is, I need to do these things to to fill the spaces.  The spaces that only matter because I am terribly, painfully vain.

I stare at myself, and obsess.  I notice the shift of every piece of me.  My arms are heavier this week than they were last.  My voice is sharper today than when I first came home.  My kindness is more hesitant than before I went away, and my hopefulness is more dim than it was before the dust took him back.

I am a woman, obsessed with her naked body, naked soul, naked heart, and naked mind. Obsessed with a naked life.

Then I slip a blog over it all, swish in front of the mirror, and wonder:

Does this blog make me look fat?


When I was away from it, I saw the lie of it.  The way it hides the truth of the truth I am seeking, even though every word I write aims to be authentic and factual.  It is still a cover, an excuse.

This blog is how I explain the ditches carved along my edges.  It is a dress, covering my cliffs while I sometimes-desperately try to bridge them.

Coco Channel once said, “Wear a good dress, and they’ll see the dress.  Wear a great dress, and they’ll see the dinogirl.”  (Or something along those lines.)

I want this blog to be a great dress.
I want to see the dinogirl.


I want to know what her life looks like naked.  I want to fall in fascination with the spaces of her that once were filled, and the bridges that can’t be built.  I want to love the dirt in her trenches and the roar of her cliffside.

I want to love the first things she loved, and consider the possibility of all the frightfully wondrous things she’ll love in the future.   I want to know her and explore her.

And I want you to know her, too.

I don’t really want to care if it makes me look fat, or wicked, or dark, or mean, or angry, or sad, or happy, or brilliant, or anything.   I don’t want to care how I look.

I want to care about how I am.

But I worry.  I get lost in my worries, lost in the mirror.  I wonder about what is being reflected, what I am reflecting, and who I am reflecting on.

If you read the words left for me while I was away,

I seem brave.
But I could have filled a prison cell with my tears.

I seem like I lived a fairy-tale love story.
But my slippery-sheer nightgowns tell a story you don’t usually read to kids.

I seem like a warrior.
But doesn’t anyone remember that I didn’t fight at all?

I seem good.
Am I?  Or are we seeing the dress instead of the girl?

I want this to be a space where I can try on other dresses.   I want to know this is a place where I can write the sort of fiery post that would explain why my blog is blocked in Turkey.

I want to tell you about the things in my life that slip, and growl, and grit, and ache– as I learn about them.  I want to know the salts of my edges, as well as I know the sweet sound of my center.

And I’m going to.

This year, I’m going to earn this badge.  In the truest sense of the word.


Here’s to never wondering if this blog makes my heart look big, or small, or lumpy.
Here’s to shouting my pride, and prejudice.
Here’s to never deleting a word that tells a truer story.
Here’s to loving the spaces between my words.
Here’s to blogging naked!




Alison– my birthday-twin and soul-role-model— told me my blog was blocked in Turkey.  I laughed aloud at that because Rarasaur blog has always been Little-Foot-friendly.  But then I started thinking about what I often wondered about in prison– what this blog is to me, and how I chose to wear it.

Do you ever wonder if your blog is doing what you want it to do for you?  If your space is safe enough to share any of your thoughts?  Do you blog naked (metaphorically or literally)?

(If you decide to leave a comment, be sure to wish Alison a Happy Birthday, too.  Or go to her place and say hey there. She turns wishes into realities all the time, so who knows what wonders she’ll cook up with the ones you offer!)


  1. What a nice, first post of yours to read having just started following yesterday, via FOG. Cool introduction to you and yours, your writing style — has an unfiltered quality but you can still see through it. Love that. Like others who blog, I grapple with how much to share and always will. Funny, it seems people really want to get to know you and there’s a kind of ‘cropping’ we do with our lives in words, as we do touching up photos. Looking forward to getting to know you more. – Bill (Germany, by way of Seattle)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I just noticed you over at Mark’s place, I think– Exile on Pain Street!

      What a fantastic blog name. 😀

      Thank you for your kind words, your readership, and your thoughts. We do sort of crop ourselves. It’s something I think of often, because even when you’re not cropping and filtering an image– you’re still choosing what picture you’re snapping. Which is fine and good and unavoidable… but not if it becomes the only story you’re allowed to tell, right? Oh, I’m not really sure where I’m going with all of this. I turned 31 yesterday and my brains turned to mush. 😀

      It’s mighty fine to meet you, Bill.

      – Ra (California, by way of Texas and Eastern WA State.)

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I was just going back and forth about my search engine settings earlier, if I wanted to allow them to index my site or not. I used to be much more anonymous with my blog when I started it almost 3 years ago, and wrote a lot of stuff that I didn’t necessarily want certain friends and family to see. I fell away from my blog for over a year, but one of the last things I did before I disappeared was start using actual photos of me. (Incidentally, you coming back is what inspired me to try to come back to my blog.) Now, I’m realizing that friends and family (especially one specific family member) could possibly stumble across my blog via Google and I’m wondering if I want to deal with the potential drama. Or if it might possibly be a liberating type of experience, because then at least they’ll know who I really am and the things that I’m afraid to tell them or be completely truthful with them about.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. For what it’s worth, I am very glad you came back to blogging. ❤ I hope that if the curtain you built around you does open to those who you wouldn't normally choose to let in, well, I hope they treat you kindly and respectfully. I hope they are gracious in what they see, the way people can be when they're being their best selves. The way people were with me when my curtain was completely ripped off the rod.

      I was never secretive with my blog — I mean, I avoided writing about the biggest thing happening, and I'm generally roundabout and vague in my style of writing– but my personal details were pretty much out and about. But then prison happened and even the tiniest details about me were put on blast. It made me wonder what people would see, and wondering about that when so many more important things were happening in my life made me wonder about blogging in general.

      But as this new stage of my life shifts me into a different person, I want to make sure there's room in this space for those stories too. And I want to make sure I'm not just hiding behind blog projects instead of owning up to the fact that I haven't the slightest clue what I'm doing in regards to life! 🙂

      Thank you for reading. And you know what else? Thank you for writing, too.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you. I’m very glad that you were able to come back as well. I’m sorry for your loss. Life has been incredibly unfair to you lately, I hope that it starts treating you with much more kindness. ❤

        Liked by 3 people

        1. Oh I get more than my fair share of kindness, too. I hope my Monday posts will show that… in a lot of ways, life takes pretty awesome care of me, so have no worries. ❤ Thank you for your condolences and hopes. I appreciate it all.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. I’m finding that I can’t trust my WordPress notification thing to actually show me a persons entire comment/reply. Your first reply it only showed the first sentence, which was initially what I replied to, then when I popped back over to your page I discovered that there was so much more that you had written. I was very grateful that my reply still seemed to make sense to the entirety of what you had written and that I didn’t come off looking like an idiot (which one of my biggest fears).
            It didn’t show all of this last reply from you either… I think WordPress has an issue with hearts, ( ❤ ) because it was like anything after the heart wasn't worth notifying me of…

            Liked by 2 people

            1. You can’t look like an idiot to someone who knows you aren’t an idiot. 🙂 And yep, WP hates those little hearts because the bracket indicates code– it makes it all confused, and it pauses to express that it can’t show code… and then nothing shows. Ah well. I still love those little hearts. 😀

              Liked by 1 person

              1. Thanks. 😀 And yeah, the hearts are awesome. What would make them even better is if we could do them in different colors as well. But then that would probably be a more difficult key combo and I’d probably mess it up a lot and end up leaving a lot of gibberish comments… Anyway, we should also be able to leave balloons in the comments… that would be awesome.

                Liked by 2 people

                1. Balloons in the comments = YES! The multi-colored hearts would be too much, I think. It’d start to be… “Orange heart” means this, and “Red hearts” imply that… and the next thing you know…


                  Liked by 2 people

                  1. You make a very good point. People have a way of taking simple things and making them very complicated. Which is exactly what would happen with the multi-colored hearts.
                    We should totally fight to make the balloons happen though! 😀

                    Liked by 2 people

  3. It is interesting. There’s how we are seen and how we think we are seen – which one is reality? I’ve always found your blogs to be honest and open and at times very vulnerable. It is interesting that you do not feel that, or at least, if you once did, you don’t now.

    If your blog is a façade. If you’re not ‘naked’. If the heart on your sleeve hides a jagged tattoo. That’s okay. It’s okay to hide pieces of yourself. Look at my blog, you can’t even see my dress – I’m wearing a cloak of anonymity while hiding behind a cleverly arranged group of mirrors that show carefully selected fragments my life.

    You don’t have to go ‘naked’ perhaps aim for ‘pyjamas’? 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I guess I just got to thinking about it because the birthday party is tomorrow, and… people say this thing when they first meet me, all the time… something along the lines of “You’re really just like you look and are and sound.” and I think– why wouldn’t I be?

      I feel like I’m really honest here, but then I read the comments you all left for me when I was away. All the posts. That girl you all loved seemed magical.

      I don’t know if she ever was.
      She’s nice, don’t get me wrong. And she likes herself, almost all the time. But… but. I’m going to try to do better.

      No pajamas. I can’t stand ’em. But maybe a hat?

      Liked by 1 person

  4. See, now you’ve got me thinking. I thought I wanted to simply write a simple travel blog. Then part of my nakedness started showing up. But I’m not me in my blog because I live some place where it might not be acceptable to be me on a blog, or to say certain things that I would if I were me or not being me. But now, I’m thinking…maybe I’m not being honest. But then I think, should I be? Then I wonder, why? Please don’t make me think this much in your next post.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. *giggles* My next post will mostly be pictures of pie and bloggers. We should be safe from all this wondering.

      Naked or not– for what it’s worth– I enjoy your blog. And as long as you enjoy it, too, and feel like it’s a big open space for you– then it’s wonderfully perfect. Right? 🙂


      1. Pie and bloggers. OK…bring it on. We’ll just see if we have anything to wonder about.
        And if your mind enjoys my blog…it is worth a lot! And you are right, the blog, the post, is perfect because it is what it is.


  5. I go back and forth over this. This was just supposed to be an online journal that nobody would read (but I’ve made wonderful, real friends). It was where I can not worry how others perceive me (but now a few people offline know and I worry about alienating them). I try to work through my past (strong, me? Yeah right) etc.

    So I get what you mean. I still struggle every day about if I should even be here or if I should disappear…and, if I do that, do I never write things out again? Or just not online? Or just completely anonymous this time? IDK

    Just know that I get it, and if it feels like to you that the dino girl isn’t shining in the dress yet, you can always change. Even on a small scale. Chanel had that other saying about accessories, so maybe it isn’t the dress but jewelry for the occasion.

    also remember we see the big picture and think what you wear is just fine, because it’s you wearing it.

    (also realize it is 5 am here, and I haven’t had much sleep but hopefully you get what I mean with all this!)

    Liked by 5 people

    1. Haha, we’re all too tired for this post! Myself included. I’m not even sure if the post made sense. I’ve been eating sugar again, it’s tweaked out my mind. 🙂

      I feel like you get what I’m saying, and it’s funny because reading your comment, I want to say — “Of course you’re strong, don’t argue with me. That’s rude.” which is pretty much exactly what I was saying I worry about in reverse. I suppose it’s matching the dress in the mirror to the dress we’re wearing, to the dress people see. There’s too many dresses!

      We all just need to get naked. This is gonna be a nudist blog soon.
      (Also, I love you, too. <3)

      Liked by 1 person

  6. I’ve yet to meet someone in Blogdom who has suffered so much and so unfairly yet has remained so strong and loving.

    P/S happy belated birthday to you Rara and your soul-sister Alison xxx

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Well this is a deep post at 5 AM after not being able to sleep. I shall have to think hard on what you wrote. I am thinking it is kind of like the expression: ‘live to work, or work to live’ but rather ‘live to blog or blog to live’.

    Liked by 2 people

  8. I think as a fiction writer, which I guess I am, you put on different clothes for every piece you write. One of those “revealing yourself by trying not to reveal yourself” type of things. I definitely don’t blog naked. I wouldn’t know what that even is. And sheesh, Rara, no wonder you’re banned in Turkey… going on about naked blogging and all.

    But I hear what you’re saying and I wish you the best in this upcoming year of clothelessness blogging.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Happy birthday Alison, I’ll stop by in a minute!
    Happy birthday again Ra! hope you had fun when you weren’t having car troubles.
    I’d like to think I blog pretty naked (metaphorically) but people that don’t know me in person tend to think I’m hiding behind a rougher exterior, than is really there. People that know me in person though, constantly laugh at what I write because they know that I am telling the truth about everything – all my neurosis on perfect display for anyone to see. I don’t really know what my blog is doing for me in the sense of a projection to the world, but I know it is a good outlet for my frustrations… when I’m mad I either type it out or tap it out (I got tap shoes last year for my 40th birthday. I don’t really know how to tap but it seems I can’t wear the shoes and be angry at the same time, so they’ve been beneficial.)

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Happy birthday fellow dinoblogger! I think you already know I really enjoy your writing, but I’ll say it again: I really enjoy your writing! Honest, intensely personal, deep, fresh, witty, funny, and at some point or another stirs up almost every type of emotion there is. I’d like to think my own blogs are pretty candid (maybe even a little too candid for some people’s taste.) and the older I get the less I care who reads them. In fact I’m on a constant quest to get more readers, more followers, more commenters, but it’s been a frustrating journey, mostly having to do I think with my own occasional laziness. I’m having a good time, though, and have met a lot of great people (including yourself) and have also read a lot of great writing and seen a lot of great art and photography. The internet is a wonderful thing sometimes! And happy birthday Alison!

    Liked by 1 person

  11. There was a time when I was shamelessly wrapped up in blogging…my stats, my followers, answering every comment, my popularity. Then shit just happened. For many reasons, I quit seeking new connections. I stopped looking for new blogs. Then I lost a family member and my perspective changed.

    Since last December I went from posting almost daily to maybe once or twice a month. I no longer care who reads what. I write for me. If someone reads it, great. If someone doesn’t, oh well.

    I try to maintain some semblance of a presence here to read those bloggers who have been there for me through some tough times, like you. It’s the least I could do to repay my friends for countless hours of listening to me whine and bitch about my life. Plus, I still get to read gems like this post and wonder how some people can turn a collection of words into a breathtaking piece of art.

    I guess what I’m trying to say is that this is your blog, and I think you should do with it as you please. No matter what you write there is always going to be a small crowd who doesn’t agree. Or doesn’t like it. You, as they say, can’t please everyone. So be you. Unapologetically be you. Perhaps it will drive some followers away. Perhaps it will gain you new ones. BUT…they will be followers who know, and like, the real you. Besides, there’s no shame in being you. You, my dino friend, are fucking fabulous.

    Happy birthday. Much love to you from da Nasty ‘Nati.

    Liked by 3 people

  12. Happy birthday to you both! This post was great. Your writing can stab me in the chest and take my breath away. Sometimes I get very uncomfortable with how the blog makes me appear to other people who read my stories… Not my intent at all. But then, what is my intent now? Sometimes, I just don’t know.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. My current blog space is not for blogging naked. Too many family members and in-laws peruse its pages to really be real. It gives me an excuse. There are so many thoughts inside me (good and bad) that I am afraid to say out loud, lest they become tangible and real. So I keep myself locked in my box.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. I’ve never felt the need to blog “naked.” Ally Bean only shares facets of my personality and tidbits from my daily life. I decided early on, which is to say over 10 years ago now [!], that I’d pretend that my blog was a column in the lifestyle section of a small town newspaper.

    Meaning that I’d need to be careful about what I said and how I said it. For me, this has worked; but for other bloggers I realize that the need to be open is vital. And I appreciate that distinction. We all don’t have to go about blogging in the same way now, do we?

    Liked by 1 person

  15. When I read what happened to you I was shocked. I couldn’t equate the reality of what was happening to the person or persona I was used to reading. I can’t make sense of these things because they operate outside of reason. It isn’t Karma it just happened to be you and that is awful.
    I like reading what you write because there is an honesty and integrity to your words that cuts right to the heart and that marks you out as a special talent.
    It doesn’t matter that you write about one facet of your personality or life and keep others to yourself, they are yours to do with as you see fit.
    Write whatever you want to write, whenever you are ready. You are a born story-teller and I cannot imagine that your writing won’t bring you great rewards in life, as you reward those who read you.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Dear Rara, Your beautiful words fill and smooth all those cracks and crevices! Eventually, as you get older, you will accept them and see them as evidence of accumulated wisdom. Accept that they make you beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

  17. I felt I had to create a whole new space, a whole new blog, in order to find a safe place to blog naked. My journey, my thoughts and emotions, are often ugly… they are often the exact opposite of the person I want to be, but are honest to the disease that often controls my brain – and unfortunately, that part of me IS PART OF ME. It’s scary to put those things out there for people to read, and see, and judge. I haven’t gotten many followers, people rarely comment as they don’t know what to say. People don’t congratulate me for being strong, or a warrior, or much of anything else. What I write is raw and ugly and sad, most of the time. But one thing I do, is blog naked.

    You have so much support and love in the blogosphere, and I have no doubt that you will only receive more upon blogging naked, exploring the darker side of who you are. I think the only thing that might be a struggle, is going through the journey of discovery yourself, not so much the writing or the sharing. Even when you feel desperately alone, you are not. We are all out here, waiting for your next picture, or post or whatever you choose to honor us with. You can lean on us, and we will always be here for you. Fear not little dino, you are loved ❤

    Liked by 3 people

  18. I’ll start with ❤ ❤ ❤
    I know all about blogging naked, both metaphorically and literally. I made a commitment to be completely self-revealing. It's been really really scary at times, and has possibly cost me some readers, but what's the point if it's not the truth? In the end I think all of us are really only interested in the truth even if it's frighteningly uncomfortable. And often it is. I've always felt you were self-revealing in your blog. It's what I love about you – your brilliant writing, and your authenticity. We can only be as revealing to others as we are to ourselves so as you reveal your nooks and crannies and murky depths to yourself you'll try on the dresses of revealing them to us, one post at a time.
    I too am vain, I too am always searching for the right words, photographs, ideas, for the blog, and tell myself "it's for the blog", when it's really for the only thing I can do to share optimism and positivity, even when I'm being self-revealing about believing I have nothing to offer. Oh Ra what a convoluted journey it is, this journey through life. I do believe we are both good, honest, brave, compassionate warriors no matter how vain we are.
    Thank you for your wonderful kind words – it made my day, and my day has been pretty good.
    Much love, Alison

    Liked by 1 person

  19. My blog is ever changing. There are bits of me scattered about like confetti. Maybe I should sweep them all together in one big pile? Nah, I don’t think that would fit me. As I am ever changing. As YOU are ever changing.
    What you have gone through, jail, losing Dave, changes you. It has to. We can not stay the same. Every day we change whether we realize it or not. I love seeing you now as I loved seeing you then. You are changing and taking us along for the ride. So now we are changing too. Change is needed. We who love you as you were, as you are, as you will be, will watch you change in what you need to be. Stay strong, stay safe, stay happy with the changes. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  20. On occasion I have asked my friend if my blog seems “like me”. I wonder if I write for the blog sometimes, or for what I need to write for. I think I have written for the blog on occasion. But most often I find myself writing something I didn’t expect to write about and it makes me look at life in a way I may not have paid attention to it before. I have to say, I have always thought your writing revealed a depth to you that I don’t often see from other writers, or artists.

    Liked by 1 person

  21. Happy birthday to you again, Ra! Because I feel we need to celebrate at least a week or month…one day is at times not enough to do it properly, sometimes it is, and sometimes not. In that spirit, happy birthday to Alison as well! Woot! Cake, cupcakes, celebration of awesome!!
    As to blogging naked, I go back and forth. Putting makeup on naked, not a problem, and maybe unnecessary, but as to blogging naked? One false move and Webcam could click, oh the issues there…on a more serious note to that, I do try. I have edited myself a bit as I must professionally in order to write what I would rather as some would perhaps be not societally acceptable. Now, the older I get it seems the less I care and just want to be me. First amendment moment, then reason and reality come back. It really is a back and forth. Holding back one minute, then being open the next. Then I edit at times for the…how can I be diplomatic?…the crazy? of the Internet. As a female it is difficult to be authentic sometimes. I will leave it at that.
    I admire you bravery and your blogging! Well done, you! And blocked in Turkey? That is like a gold star for awesome. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  22. RaRa,

    I like a woman with some curves…a little swerve. Blog anyway you like, I’m pretty sure it will generally be something that I enjoy.

    Although I could never wish the past few years on you, I think you are at a very interesting stage in life where almost everything has been stripped away from you. You’re inclination to “go all the way” is a solid instinctual cleansing…and if you take the momentum of going bare seriously you will likely end up with a “you” few of us (including you) are expecting.

    I have sort of a Dino element and I suspect it has burrowed itself into my writing in such a way that I will always remain cloaked from certain angles and very raw and exposed from others. I enjoy the variability of swinging down the beach naked, but then wrapping into a shady spot or tucking away when I want to recharge in private ways. I think a journey is shaped by open / closed / variable elements. It is a gift to be able to share yourself openly with the world…just watch getting burned in those spots not used to being exposed. 🙂

    Should you start a colony can I suggest using Raw? I’ll submit something from time to time. It could be a place where people feature themselves as openly and as honestly as they’re able to…naturally, you’ll be the one with the hula hoop.


    Liked by 1 person

  23. I don’t blog naked literally. I’m lucky I take a shower naked (I’m rather modest). But I’ve found that it can sometimes be a place to bare my soul, as much as I’m willing to in public, anyway (I’m kind of modest about that, too). I value my private emotions, so when I really get into it on the blog, it’s because I feel like I just can’t hold it in anymore. Mostly, I just channel my feelings into the songs I choose.

    You have been through so much that I think your plan to blog naked will be cathartic rather than indulgent. I get a lot out of your musings already, so I’m looking forward to what you can teach me in the future. ((Hugs))

    Liked by 1 person

  24. Great post. We always put on our best face for the world to see. The nightgown line broke my heart. I think it’s tough to feel safe when sharing intimate parts of ourselves. I know I worry whenever I write a serious post. I get great anxiety over each one. You just never know who is reading. For the most part I think our blokin anyway are a wonderful supportive bunch. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  25. Once upon a time there was a dino girl, and life was difficult to her, but also wonderful, and showed light in the dark places and tangles in the bright ones, and in spite of all that, she turned up and kept trying.

    And she was okay.
    And she was okay.
    And she was okay.

    And also frightfully wonderous.

    So she decided to keep doing that.

    It isn’t nearly The End.


  26. I don’t blog naked, in either sense. I used to, scars and all, but then I found a dress I liked and I haven’t taken it off since. I might soon. Or I might not. I’m shaking up my life again, and I don’t know yet if I’ll wear what is proven comfortable, or something new. I don’t have to decide. That’s the cool part. Time will tell and I’ll listen.

    To Alison: best wishes to you for a happy birthday, the kind with smiles that make your face hurt.

    Liked by 1 person

  27. Sometimes the most brutal battle is the one you surrender in.
    That’s what I remember.

    And yes, I Write Free! A luxury afforded to me because I am anonymous. I’m not sure if I could be as real if my name were attached.

    But since it’s not, I don’t have to actually speculate about that.


  28. Yes, I blog naked all the time, but I don’t have many witnesses so I wonder if my nakedness drives people away. When I hit publish, and even when I reread posts, they are my truth, my nakedness. I believe that if you let yourself be seen, connections will multitply like those furry things on Star Trek. But that hasn’t happened, or it has happened, but on a very small scale, so I wonder, am I ugly naked?

    Happy birthday, Alison and Rara.



        1. It would make a great pitch for a reality TV show, probably… Maury would want to know all about this. (I learned all about Maury and Bill Cunningham and Steve Wilkos in prison. #Educated.)



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