Making the hard to decision to throw away a once favorite bra is like deleting an ex-friend that repeatedly let you down.

It’s raining cats and dogs. Good thing meows and barks bounce off my umbrella, and I just poured a large cup of love in the left cup of your bra when you weren’t looking.

I unstrapped her bra like I’d unstrap a seat belt, and for the same reason—to live dangerously. And to exit the vehicle.

I found a bra in a bar. Guess when? Anagram Night! It’s the one day of the year that’s truly for lovers. It’s also for a solver.

I had an interview once with some German journalist—some horrible, ugly woman. It was in the early days after the communists—maybe a week after—and she wore a yellow sweater that was kind of see-through. She...

I look at the check once more and then fold and tuck it into my bra. It’s not every day a girl gets to be up close and personal with this much money.