![]() ![]() I listened for a moment… it sounded familiar… so I asked who the artist was. She said, and I quote, “Anytime I can come into work and listen to music like this, it’s a good day.” So far so good. And, of course, polite midwestern bloke that I am, I inquired as to her well-being. I responded that I was quite well, thank you. ![]() ![]() I personally have a hard time imagining how well cock rings and coffee interrelate, but who am I to judge? (The coffee was terrible, by the way, I do not recommend it.) The chipper young lady behind the counter asked me how I was doing. (I know, I know, I should have known better, and I did, I swear, but my distended bladder made other decisions.) Supposedly, this place is some kind of kink palace by night. So, here’s how it all went down: I was early for an appointment in San Francisco, so I stopped off for a cappuccino at this run-down little joint called Wicked Grounds. ![]()
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