dagnabbit
But something's lost and something's gained in living every day; or so they say.

Life goes on: through tears, threats, and disgraces.
Love reappears: with different lips, hands, and secret places.

Yesterday there was a slow moment to read a magazine in at work. It's been three weeks since that was possible. Ten hour days, no days off, and the car's been at the garage with its guts pulled out; my ass is tiny. Halloween night: I did manage to drag my retail-riddled corpse out for some sushi and alcohol. A zombie octopus tentacle undulated ( Read more... )

No, she did not pee in me.
She was trapped it the pantry.

It's sooooo hard bein' a tiny kitty.

The Ghost Tour from Haunts of Richmond was an amusing organized wander. We were late due to imbibing Baren Jager and burning plant matter. *ah, smoke and bees ( Read more... )

Screw self-described "romantics". Give me the mellow honesty of a flexible f*ck-buddy any day. "Romantics" use libertines for dramatic fodder, having them fulfill the same purpose as an opium den or a year in the foreign legions. But perhaps the object of the "romantics" fixation should be pitied more than the incidentals of their exploits. " ( Read more... )

Original version of La Belle Dame Sans Merci, 1819 ( Read more... )

She is a tiny tortoiseshell-calico kitty with striped legs, black paws, and a firm conviction that she can kick anything's ass. But she also purrs, nuzzles, and makes cutes in a most heartbreaking way ( Read more... )

"She needed a lover and at the same time a lover was not what she needed. The need of a lover was, after all, quite a secondary thing. She needed to be loved, to be long and quietly and patiently loved. To be sure she is a grotesque, but then all the people in the world are grotesques. We all need to be loved. What would cure her would cure the ( Read more... )

"Let the morning time drop all its petals on me ( Read more... )