May 5, 2002
I need pasties. The dress I have chosen to get married in is sheer, and I don't want Doug?s family staring at my nips. I approached the salesgirl in the vanilla scented store and asked her awkwardly while circling my breasts for "those things" for "here." She looked at me half-cocked as I continued to point sadly to my 32-Bs. She went to a drawer and pulled out flesh colored stinky things for "that area." Fourteen dollars later I tried them on under my dress and nope, you can't see nip anymore. But you can see these "diva-dots." Which is worse?