Muglife

Mugs are stolen, thoughts are thought

I once discovered a box of my mugs hidden in the basement. I hadn’t put them there. But there they were anyway, stacked in the middle between denim button up shirts, books like Lady Chatterley’s Lover and mugs that read, “Write like a Motherfucker”, “I’m just a girl who likes to write” and one festooned with the faces of famous Democrats, given to me by…