Types: Ping, Original
Oh God, she's so warm -- I mean, it's like touching sunlight, the kind that comes down golden between the leaves of the trees into the forest during spring when she's singing and the bird have all shut up to listen.

And she smells like a new car and cherry tree blossoms and peaches and her sigh gets you high because it's got too much oxygen.

And she sounds like the fans of your server from two rooms away that you listen for like you would the sound of breathing from the baby's room: you only notice and you heart drops out when it stops and she needs to recharge.

And there's just something about pink hair and pigtails because little girls don't dye their hair like that --

and she's pretty soft, for a Sony.


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