At a mention from Greg, I realized that last post came off a good deal more snobbish than I meant it. The problem was, I had written the whole thing out, much more detail, much more thought... and then I accidentally lost the whole post ( Read more... )

The reason, dear readers, that I did not finish the story from my earlier post about Friday night/Saturday morning's hijinks was because the sex really wasn't worth writing about ( Read more... )

Friday night (pre-club), I went out to el OC to have dinner with one of my closest friends, Greg ( Read more... )

Huh ( Read more... )

Last night I did something I've never done before ( Read more... )

Well, I am back from my adventure with my tattooed man, where I sounded my barbaric YAWP ( Read more... )

I need to take a moment to sound my barbaric YAWP.

My mushroom-stamping fiend/friend is back.

If I'm lucky, this time tomorrow I'll be a member of the Ministry of Silly Walks.

Many years ago, a female friend of mine had a bit of a crush on one of our mutual guy friends. Unfortunately for her, he wasn't at all interested and, as I found out years later, had more set his eye on me ( Read more... )

I'm on hold, listening to a slow, pornish jazz version of The Cure's "Lovecats".

Oh my fucking god, this is sacrilege.

I need to stab someone. Preferrably the person who thought covering that song would be a good idea.

I feel so freaking violated right now.

Totally going to go sit in the restroom in a corner, rocking back and forth, whimpering.

One of my favorite things about sex, sexual activites, or the connection with a partner, are those moments, those brief snapshots that burn into your brain. They don't quite haunt you, but they're always there should you wish to view them ( Read more... )