I nearly died ( Read more... )

Everything goes rancid after a while. Underwear, relationships, corpses and LJ's. I've fallen out of love with this one, or rather, outgrown it. I'm no longer the innocent, wide-eyed lass of '08 who had such amazing fetishes hope for her world, now she was entering back into it at last.

Oh who'm I trying to kid? I'm fucking bored. It's the start of ( Read more... )

http://www.ohcomely.co.uk/Read more... )

Sleep glazed over my eyes and brought me sweeter thoughts, memories of old friends and almost-tangible caresses of their hands on my breasts shoulders. Some faces have faded beyond recall, even for my rather fabulous memory bank, which for such nonsensical items as individual cat breeds and their stats, and the latin names of various flora and ( Read more... )

Well, after a night that really should've been aborted when the bus failed to arrive and we were forced to pile into a taxi with an unknown young man who was also waiting at the stop with us, I'm well and truly fired from the sky and beyond reconcillianont naonasofansn oh arse where's my typing hands, RECONCILIATION where St A's nightlift is ( Read more... )

“Don't you just love those long rainy afternoons in New Orleans when an hour isn't just an hour - but a little piece of eternity dropped into your hands - and who knows what to do with it ( Read more... )

Would you stare up at the voiding sky, in wait? I think I'd choose to burn out my eyes, if only to see the end come.

Any references to "Don't wanna miss a Thing" will result in katana-tickling of the highest intensity.

You love me like you used to do ... and you're a clever swine.

My last day at the Nick as of 2011. Unless I get unexpectedly called in ( Read more... )

That's the working title of my ongoing story, which began life as a 3-chapter shortie for a bit of a laugh. An old woman wittering on a bus I happened to be sitting on (unluckily behind her) started the whole thing. I guess I owe her, so she gets to live a bit longer ( Read more... )

Blazing home under the sodium haven and a big purple brolly, howling along to the Ben E King classic. I want to scare as many wet pedestrians as possible ( Read more... )

Men holding cans of weak lager produced mumbled soliloquies to the Embankment skyline, their wizened hands stretched out forlornly to caress its many curves. Their coats were stuffed with newspapers for warmth, and I hoped that the ink didn't run off onto their scrawny bodies during the chill, wet night ( Read more... )