Friday, November 30, 2007

Book Meme FTW

A book meme, full o' classics and other stuff.
The rules: bold what you have read, italicize what you started but couldn’t finish, and strike through what you couldn’t stand.

The Aeneid

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
American Gods
Anansi Boys
Angela’s Ashes : A Memoir
Angels & Demons
Anna Karenina
Atlas Shrugged
inThe Blind Assassin
Brave New World
The Brothers Karamazov
The Canterbury Tales
The Catcher in the Rye
A Clockwork Orange

Cloud Atlas
Collapse : How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed
A Confederacy of Dunces
The Confusion
The Corrections
The Count of Monte Cristo
Crime and Punishment
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time
David Copperfield
Don Quixote

Eats, Shoots & Leaves
Foucault’s Pendulum
The Fountainhead
Freakonomics : A Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of Everything
The God of Small Things
The Grapes of Wrath
Gravity’s Rainbow
Great Expectations
Gulliver’s Travels
Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
The Historian : A Novel
The Hobbit
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
The Iliad

In Cold Blood : A True Account of a Multiple Murder and its Consequences
The Inferno
Jane Eyre
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
The Kite Runner
Les Misérables
Life of Pi : A Novel

Love in the Time of Cholera
Madame Bovary
Mansfield Park
Memoirs of a Geisha
The Mists of Avalon
Moby Dick
Mrs. Dalloway
The Name of the Rose

Northanger Abbey
The Odyssey
Oliver Twist
On the Road
The Once and Future King
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s N
One Hundred Years of Solitude
Oryx and Crake : A Novel
A People’s History of the United States : 1492-present
The Picture of Dorian Gray
The Poisonwood Bible : A Novel
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Pride and Prejudice
The Prince
Reading Lolita in Tehran : A Memoir in Books
The Satanic Verses
The Scarlet Letter

Sense and Sensibility
A Short History of Nearly Everything
The Silmarillion
The Sound and the Fury
The Tale of Two Cities
Tess of the D’Urbervilles
The Three Musketeers

The Time Traveler’s Wife
To the Lighthouse
Treasure Island

The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Vanity Fair
War and Peace
Watership Down
White Teeth
Wicked : The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
Wuthering Heights
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Matenance : An Inquiry Into Values

Now really homo out.
Tags: ,


On the D List Baby!

Finally I have something in common with Kathy Griffin aside from a foul mouth.

D-List Blogger


The Low Authority Group [D-List Bloggers]
(3-9 blogs linking in the last 6 months)
The average blog age (the number of days that the blog has been in existence) is about 228 days, which shows a real commitment to blogging. However, bloggers of this type average only 12 posts per month, meaning that their posting habits are generally dedicated but infrequent.

That's really funny to me.


Today I actually want to ruminate on beauty. First go read this Margaret Cho entry...I'll wait go ahead.

Back now? Fabulous.

I love beauty. I love it and find beauty everywhere constantly. I'm one of those people you'll find staring open mouthed at the grain of the sidewalk or something glittery fluttering in the street.

In people I find I have a serious love for odd looking people. Overlarge features, strangely canted mouths. However I'm not really super picky I can find something beautiful about most people.

However if you're an abject douche I will probably think you are fug.

Oi my friends I am a tired little Beasty.

I want to go home, put my jammies on and drink some beer.

So that's about it for me. Although you can go read my second ever attempt at a screenplay here in my El jay. It is entirely based on what goes on in my head when I'm way over tired.

And goodnight.

Homo Out.



Wednesday, November 28, 2007

My Fantasy of Thin.

Kate Harding wrote an excellent post called The Fantasy of Being Thin. It got me thinking.

As I've said before I've been to the magical Land of Thin and far beyond it to the Scary Land of might have a fucking heart attack anytime now. A lot of it was very unpleasant.

And (don't mind me poking my head out of the closet for a moment) I have a history. I've intimated and I am not yet at a point where I am comfortable or ready to start talking openly about it in public but there you have it. In case you've wondered.

I wondered for a long time if I'd really let the whole Thin Fantasy go. Shockingly I did a long time ago.

However for me this wasn't really any great feat of body acceptance. It was mainly something I arrived at because I caught a good long look at myself and realized that I looked fucking weird. All those "when I'm thin" type thoughts pretty much vanished under the far larger thought of, "Holy SHIT I look like a fucking alien."

My fantasies about being thin were all just that. Thin. They could not hold up under reality.

Along this same train of thought I read an article in Heart And soul Magazine a magazine aimed at black women that finally turned me off to it.

I had a subscription for about a year and a half and learned to gloss over the Christian articles. And the frequently after school specialesque articles about drug addiction but, their list of reasons why thin is so great pissed me right the hell off.

Each of their reasons was so thin. Essentially if you lose weight they promise you'll get laid, wear nice clothes, have friends and not die. Okay. sure.

But what they don't say is that if you're a fat asshole you'll probably be a skinny asshole and therefore your popularity will probably suffer.

They actually put in that stupid fucking Oprah quote about how "nothing tastes as good as thin feels" or whatever it was. Are you fucking kidding me?

Are you SHITTING me?

Do these people seriously think that shedding those magical pounds will suddenly turn you into the black belle of the ball? Do black women not have enough mother fucking problems you have to introduce this kind of blatant asshattery?

For fuck sake.

So I wrote an angry letter and will not be reading that magazine ever again.

Also I have to say I've not slept in awhile and my temper is really short. So that contributed but it is still bullshit.

And while I'm talking about things I think are janky can we discuss some things? Me to you.

Please put an end to cullottes. Please. We can all work together to make them just go away.

Also, can we finally just agree to disagree about ruching on boots? Ok.

In other news. Christina Aguilara is SO fucking cute all pregnant. So cute. Cute cute cute.

And, Mac lipglass in the color Bare Fetish is the bomb fucking diggity.

I'm wearing a Torrid sweater material cami that is seriously made of fail. I got it a few clearance sales ago and haven't worn it. Why is one of my boobs almost falling out? I think 50% of the problem is that the straps are not adjustable and are too long. Big boobs doesn't equal saggy boobs.

I'm really still very tired.

Also the tights I have on are doing something weird and slightly pinchy in the crotchal region and I don't approve. it it wasn't so cold I'd just take them off.

Also the skin on my face is still really unhappy and I think the Cover Girl powder I'm wearing is making me break out. I'm mysteriously itchy.

But I do actually look pretty goddamn cute.

I'm wearing a long black Lip Service skirt, the cami of doom and my long black sweater coat, burgundy Docs.

Make up that's supposed to be gold and black but this shade of gold comes way close to being a duplicate of Mac pro pigment chartruese. I'm a little unhappy about that since I wore that and another shade of green yesterday.

And can I just say to the DJ's out there. You do some cool stuff but seriously not everything needs to be fucking remixed. Some things remixing just ruins.

Ugh I think I'm done. My "writing" is not going well at all and I'm depressed about that. For comfort I ate some very tasty sushi earlier and have two organic red pears for later and a salad.

It's not helping entirely I am meh. Discouraged.

So yeah.

Also pictures coming soon. I had to return another fucking broken camera but have a nice one on the way.

That is all.

Homo Out.


Monday, November 26, 2007

A tribute to a seducer.

For all of the insane strange sex I've had in my life, I've not been one to be easily seduced by many. I don't typically enjoy the game of seduction. At least not from scratch.

However, I have never shied away from playing the role myself. In fact I have more than once prided myself on my ability to play the game and get myself into the pants of someone.

Except for a boy let's call Blue. So called because htat was his favorite color and he wore something blue (other than his hair) every single day.

Blue and I met randomly in the UW Bookstore while each muttering while perusing some shelf or another. There was no instant tzzzt electrical connection between us. I thought he was attractive but at the time I wasn't really into the penis. But that didn't stop me from accepting his offer of coffee at the coffee shop where we could smoke and talk about books.

Now we all know I am an absolute sucker for the big brains, bonus points if said brains are presented in a charming funny way. He delivered.

We spent a very long afternoon and evening lolling in uncomfortable chairs, drinking coffee and smoking many cigarettes while we debated the merits of going out of your way to buy UK imprints of British authors (I am firmly PRO going out of your way), and he wound ihs way to flattery.

I may occasionally say that flattery will get you everywhere with me but it's seldom true. Yes you might get to touch a boob or see one but as for actually getting me naked or opening the door to naked probably not. However he was clever enough to sprinkle his flattery of my skin and lips, right in the tasty mix of glowering at me for my strong opinions on ugly over decorative typeface in books.

I was pretty well able to keep it in my pants at that point. We made arrangements to hang out after I got off of work a few days later. Instead of the U district we headed for one of my favorite (at the time) dives the Hurricane and drank more coffee and lolled in banquettes smoking and giving each other the eye.

This is where the serious seducing started. He draped himself in my lap in the booth, normally I don't exactly want to cuddle with strangers but I humoured him. He demanded to be stroked and petted, fed French Fries which made me laugh. But what did it ladies and gents was the habit he had of running his fingers up and down the inside of my forearm while we talked.

That doesn't work for everybody so don't get any funny ideas. Some people that would get punched in the neck but he was rewarded with a little more unspoken permission.

We saw each other a few times a week for about a month. He was very quick to notice when whatever sort of petting he was doing made me the slightest bit squirmy in the pants or as he put it, "turned my mouth" which to this day I have no idea what he meant.

That's when it became a game. A very drawn out game. he stroked my arm, I flicked his lower lip. He turned and kissed my neck, I tickled his ribs. I let him make me blush, he stole more kisses. For months that's all that happened and to tell the truth I was pretty happy with it. I'd not had that sort of playful almost but not quite sexual relationship with anyone in a long time and I enjoyed it.

After months of this, and then a period of us not being able to see each other the next time we got together he had a look. Some people no matter how smooth they are have a tension in their facial muscles when they have gotten to the point where lust and a slight bit of anger have fused together into absolute need.

For the first time I felt a rush of power in watching him. The tables weren't quite turned but, I felt the power of watching him be wanting and too much of a gentleman to be demanding. I discovered my love of the tease.

I love being a cock/cunt tease on occasion and I am very good at it.

With him, I played like I didn't notice. Even though we spent the better part of a Saturday afternoon half dressed in his bed, I played. I played until he held my face in his hands and kissed me with actual purpose.

There is a big difference between the playful not quite there yet kisses I like to call Puppy Kisses and someone kissing another person with the clear intention of making them tingly int he pants and then getting down in said pants. A huge difference.

Maybe that's what I'd been waiting for. Just to see if he'd get there or if we'd eventually part ways having never consummated a by then mutual simmering lust. Either way I think I would have been happy, however I was delighted.

To that point my still exploratory sex life I had been missing having any experience with a very determined and skilled male lover. I had experienced the determined groping of post adolescent boys who thought they had skills but nothing like Blue.

From that kiss onward for the first time I let him really seduce me. It was fantastic. We actually slept together on and off for months.

I was reminded of this because of a man I saw on the bus today. He had the same kind of posture and set to his mouth.

And I did say I'd be smutty.

Good times people.

I will admit I do miss being single and my exploratory romps with naked people. I also miss in a way being fairly ambivalent about whether or not I was actually getting laid at all.

That is to say I really miss having the time and privacy to masturbate for however long I felt like it. There is really something to be said for spending a whole day in bed playing with yourself.

On that note, I'm off to make tea and ogle boots.

My fondness for boots is becoming a fetish in the my girly pink bits get tingly when I see the right pair of boots. Tingly and moist.

I'm really thinking more and more I should start myself a boot fetish site. The thought has been in the back of my mind for ages. Why not merge things I enjoy, photography, boots, my own ass and the internet.

And I could possibly write off boot purchases which would make my cervix quiver with glee.

Ok now I'm really done.

Homo Out.


Sunday, November 25, 2007

Stripper ass.

In case you haven't been reading me since back in the days of Diary-X (which is most of you) I used to be a pretty smutty blogger. Not as much anymore and that is probably going to change. Fair warning.

In reference to the title I want to talk about how much I miss stripping. Yes, your hostess used to do the naked dancing for monies. And I loved it.

When I started out I realized very quickly that I had several things going against me. I was not (and am still not) thin, white, tall and I didn't really fit the stereotype black girl image that a lot of people want to see whether they admit it or not. However, I wasn't entirely at a disadvantage I learned very quickly that black girl who dances to (almost exclusively) rock, metal etc while wearing shiny black=$$.

I will not sit here and give you some long feminist diatribe. I took the job because a friend of mine worked at the club and didn't want to work with a bunch of chicks she didn't know, I LOVE to dance, let me repeat LOVE to dance, got paid money (that part rarely ceased to amuse me) to wear costumes, wear crazy make up and be naked.


Granted it wasn't all booty shaking and roses. There were times I got my feelings hurt, I was never assaulted, groped or grievously offended. Actually most of the guys I danced for were actually fairly nice. Which is the exception rather than the rule of course. I had a good time. I had more issues with the other dancers than I did with the customers.

What I really miss though is how amazingly strong my body was at the time. I wasn't thin really. I was what is often referred to as "thick" a term I kind of hate but it was pretty accurate at the time. While I was dancing I became solid under a layer of tasty chub and the best part for me was feeling and knowing I was fucking buff.

I miss being super strong like that. You have to be strong to work the pole and I worked it.

The thing is though I am just not that young anymore. Much as I may want to flip myself upside down while shimmying up a pole it's just not practical.

So instead I will enjoy the sexy in my own skin and occasionally pine for that pert round stripper booty I used to have.

And hot DAMN I just won two super fantastic ebay auctions. I won a Smashbox eyeliner brush. I got the cream eyeliner brush#9. I got that bad motherfucker for more than 50% off of retail including shipping. I also picked up Smashbox's Layer Lash primer for a little more than 50% off retail too.

I've heard amazing things about both and I have been in serious need of a good brush to use with my cream eyeliners. So hot damn.

And that layer lash. I am a mascara whore and love primer. I have been using the Maybelline XXL primer with some Benefit BadGal mascara but I am ready to try something new.

Speaking of I hennaed my hair this weekend and that was lovely. Feel free to read about my hair experiments over on the LJ. You can find that here. I will be posting tomorrow most likely some recipes for all natural home made hair treatments. Some of them good for all sorts of hair not just black girl hair.

So my weekend has been mostly about pampering myself and doing some lovin type stuff to it and that makes me feel nice.

Now if I could berid my head of snot everything would be fabulous.

Now I am off to peruse the intertubes for more deals and consider having some beer.

Homo Out.


Friday, November 23, 2007

Tag it and um..yeah.

So I got tagged by the lovely Vesta from DUH not Vesta good lord Ottermatic to do a meme. And since I am finally more well and can function here we go. Long answers where possible.

Seven Things meme. These are the rules:

1. Link to the person’s blog who tagged you.
2. Post these rules on your blog.
3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.
4. Tag seven random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog.

Ok random facts.

1.)I have in fact had an actual Sugar Daddy situation. It was shortly before I started working where I do now and I was just about right smack between 21 and 22 years old. I had a habit of dressing up and taking myself out on little dates. I met him in the bar of the Alexis hotel.

He was tall and quite dapper, silver at the temples. Very much the quintessential sexy older man, very Sean Connery but with a slight bit of a New England twang. He said I drew his attention because it wasn't really the sort of bar he thought to find a young lady alone, muchless drinking 15$ scotch and smoking a good cigar.

We sat in big dark leather club chairs and he bought me my first glass of super fine scotch, and showed me how to properly cut and light a cigar. Even while we were having our drinks he was starring in a semi pornographic chain of thoughts on my behalf. He asked me out to dinner and at the time dating for me mostly just equaled free sex and free meals. So I accepted.

He took me to a nice restaurant and asked the big question over dessert espresso and some fantastic creme brulee, he knew I wasn't a pro working girl but he did in fact want to be my Sugar Daddy for a week. I didn't hesitate and accepted.

The theme of the four days we spent together was talk about books, history, etc. He bought me a really beautiful suit and took me on his arm to some business luncheon thing, he encouraged me on the way to not let his colleagues speak down to me, which of course wasn't an issue. I was having an excellent time. My whole idea at that point was Fuck Pretty Woman, this is way better.

There wasn't actual intercourse amazingly. He did however like him some tig ole bitties and admired them quite a lot. Mostly what he wanted was company and some fun. We did some dancing, a lot of drinking and when we parted at the airport he gave me a very sweet kiss and some cash in the proverbial envelope. However he did include a card with a pretty Georgia O'Keefe flower on it. We never came into contact again but I remember him fondly.

Still with me?

2.) When I was younger and my best friend committed suicide I went very crazy. I did a lot of drugs, I had what most people in religious circles call a crises of faith where I absolutely destroyed my altar, set it on fire then destroyed my spell books, recipes, sacred things. And the one thing that brought me back to my senses was going through a ritual and getting a brand. In my insanity and grief, the only thing that brought me back from the edge was the pain of having half a broken heart was seared into the flesh of my left breast. It was done by my first queer mentor and the first butch dyke I ever fell in love with Daddy Liz and her hippy wife. For the first and to date only time in my life I laid on the floor and howled, I got shitty drunk, I wept while sitting on the curb in the street and then I survived.

I wasn't healed but I was cleansed. I believe that my abandon in my grief probably kept me from becoming addicted to any of the numerous drugs I was ingesting. It was a trial by fire and I lived.

3.) If I know you personally, regardless of anything else I have probably included you in some pornographic tryst in my head. Irrespective of gender and sexual orientation most of my friends have been doing dirty things in my head. I can't help it.

4.) I have a probably evil hatred of chickens and have since I was a child. A story to illustrate:

When I was a little kid my parents and I went to a bbq joint called The Cave Man I think. They had this thing where if you caught one of the chickens that ran around outside you got a free meal. Me, being the literal child I was I spent the whole time there trying to catch a chicken.

I caught a huge chicken and triumphantly carried it up to the counter and the guy came out to congratulate me. However, I thought that I would get to kill and eat the chicken I caught and got irate, then hysterical. I argued for awhile, then started to cry because it was my fucking chicken and I wanted to eat my chicken.

Naturally I was inconsolable and caused such a ruckus the poor guy called the owner who came from home and they felt so bad that I was so upset we got free food there for months. I never ate there again. I also hold grudges. I felt it was misleading advertising and I was not a happy baby Beasty.

5.) I have an epic sweet tooth. The only people with worse sweet teeth I've ever met have been junkies.

6.) I buy books like crackheads buy rock. However given my gift of super frugality I can generally keep myself in at least 2 books a week (how many I tend to read) for less than 30 bucks every two months. I will read anything and I go through differing phases as to my subject matter. Currently I'm on a brutal fiction kick. Also because of my geekery I encourage the rest of you to come join me on Goodreads find me here. Be my friend. I have been unsuccessful thus far in cataloging all the books I've ever read sadly. Everything I've listed are just books in my physical possession or things that have left indelible imprints on my psyche.

7.) Last random fact, um. Uh. I like pie. A lot.


What else?

This weekend is all about my hair. I am going to henna my hair for rhe first time I'm really excited.

Not much else in the news aside from I am going to rip apart and remake a cheongasm dress. Make it fetishy and hot.


I actually don't have a lot else to say today. I'm really tired because I don't sleep fucking well and uh...yeah.

So yeah.

Homo Out.


Wednesday, November 07, 2007


Gods still sick.

Do. Not. Want.

So to make myself feel better I've been watching the video below over and over again. And I do the little paddle while I watch it.

Occasionally I make "ehn ehn ehn" sound effects.

This has been a hard week. I forgot to send out payment for some auctions I won and I feel so bad about that good lord. Also during my forray to Target I forgot I need new mascara, black liquid liner, and a few other things.


However my spam says that I can "beat her uterus with my big new rod"

If anyone that reads this wants a Pogo guest pass lemme know.

While I'm languishing here's a list of things I really need to pick up.

  1. New bra
  2. A cream black eyeliner probably the one by Revlon HIP
  3. mascara
  4. Eyeliner brush
  5. New jeans. My DKNY jeans that I lucked out and found in an emergency at Ross are starting to wear out in a not sexy way.

Other things that need doing. I think I might trade my partial jar of Pastorale the color and I don't really get along all that well sadly.

I bid on a pair of cheap Vicky's secret yoga pants on ebay today. Those are comfy and the starting bid is like 5$ and I am down for that.

I think that's all. I feel like poo. I'm going to cruise the Mac community on el jay for deals.

Sickly Homo Out.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Bodily Unrest.

I am actually sicker this week than I was last week. Lots sicker and I am really bummed out.

The turning point was spending all day Sunday running all the errands I'd been too tired to try. And since we don't have a car that involved a lot of standing around in the cold/wind and here I am.

That aside I managed to make it to Target for tights, socks, underpants, blush, um...few other bits.

I really love the Target brand 1X tights. I wore them yesterday and they are very soft and had no issues with crotch sag, ham pinch, no ankle bagging they get an A+. The only drawback is that they don't stock fun colors at my Target.

I also got some cute Hanes booty shorts panties and their XL fits far better than the Target brand XL. They have not gone up my butt all day.

Ugh I feel like poop people. And honestly it makes me really not happy with my body.


Oh just in case if anyone happens to run across or know publications open to Tgirl lesbian porn (the written kind) lemme know. I'm slowly getting back into writing smut and I'm way behind on markets. Note to self: go back to erotica readers dumb ass.

I also need to start reading the gay smut again. I have a couple of bits to finish that I might send off to the fabulous guys at Velvet Mafia. Link clearly not worksafe or butt sex phobic safe. They have published me before and I got some really excellent feedback and some fanmail.



Do. Not. Fucking. Want.

I am spent homo out.


Friday, November 02, 2007

Links and whatnot.

Lots of whatnot today.

Still feeling crappy in the over tired, over cranky, feel puffy and gross kind of way. Also I have discovered that my body hates cold medicine and fights back with gastrointestinal distress, breakouts and random heartburn.

So links:

Monk made a very delicious post about spanking today. NSFW clearly and I agree that he is in fact dreamy.

Margaret Cho (who is one of my favorite people) has some really fantastic tattoos and her latest is really lovely go look here.

What else?

Oh I've been playing on Make Up Alley and wrote some new reviews go read them here. If you have to be a member to see those tell me.

What else?

I've been feeling strangely invisible lately. Or rather, like I have no impact on anything. Which is probably due more to me being sick, over tired and ay inside my own head. I go through this sort of thing with some regularity at least once or twice a year.

Usually this is precipitated by illness or the aforementioned over tiredness, then I dig in and let my brain spin. This time around most of my issue is this: quite honestly I am just not able to do a lot of things I enjoy and it makes me miserable.

I get myself all riled up because I want to do this that and the other thing, then i want to be able to write about it, blablablabla. The truth is I'm biting myself in the ass with this and I need to stop.

What else?

OH I've had a bit of a personal break thru in terms of my body. Like most other human beings I know I am on and off with how I feel about my body. I realized the other day while I was getting naked, ok I digress here but I highly recommend this if you can, as soon as you get home take it all off. Srsly. More on that in a minute, anyhow I was getting naked and I realized that yes, I am finally and actually okay with how my body has changed.

This isn't really about weight but rather the distribution of it. In the last five years or so my body shape has changed a lot. I've had to relearn how to dress my body and now, oh HAY I'm all right with it.

Ok back to the naked.

I have a problem dissociating from my body and not enjoying it. I started spending probably inordinate amounts of time bucky naked. Chances are, if I'm at home I'm naked. Or naked with a cardigan on, or just socks. I'm not going to sit here espousing how "liberating" and whatnot it is. But I will say that spending so much time naked has taken a lot of those moments of "OMFGWTFBBQ!!1!!!" is that my ass, away.

If you can't spend tons of time naked I also highly recommend after bathing, be naked then. Make your booty shiny with some nice cream or lotion. Sit around let it sink in. It feels very luxurious.

What else?

Oh I have decided that I really do actually want to get a tummy tattoo. I've been planning a memorial tattoo to my friend who passed away a decade ago and wanted the words Bad Motherfucker, tattooed on my left side.

Okay backstory quickly. Pete was a junkie who committed suicide. It was bad. The reason I want Bad MotherFucker instead of say flowers, butterflies or some shit is because of the following memory of him which is one of my favorites.

He and I were hanging out in one of the parks the hobos and drunks hang out in, lolling in the grass drinking coffee. I forget now how the conversation started but, the punchline is that Pete jumped up off the ground, ran around me in a circle flailing his arms and screaming: "She's a BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD MOTHERFUCKER" I laughed until I almost peed.

So I think I will get that on my stomach rather than my side because I have a short torso and don't want the words squished. I've been looking for line drawings of hypodermic needles (he and I shared a fairly sick sense of humor) or something like that because I know it'd make him smile.

OH MY GOOD LORD burn my goth card right now I am jiggle my ass in my chair to the new Britney album.

Good lord.

what else?

I'm babbling because I am really tired. And keep busy=don't pass out under desk.

I am going to do the challenge I saw over at Every Woman Has an eating Disorder with color commentary of course:

Inspired by April's challenge, posed here--Eight Things I Like About My Body:

  1. My boobs. For sheezy. We all know I loves me some boobies. However, I love mine most of all. D Cups of Chocolate Doom.
  2. The color of my skin. I love it. I am brown fabulousness.
  3. My hands/nails. I love the shape of my fingers and my long nails.
  4. My ham. Truth is I used to hate my big, slightly out of proportion thighs. I have come to love them. Big, kinda jiggly, and shaped like whoa. I love My. HAM.
  5. My booty. My poor little half a badonkadonk. I am lacking in the ghetto booty but goddamn the right pants and it's cute. Also, naked very cute. Cute enough that Uniballer quite literally kisses and/or nibbles on it daily.
  6. My wrists. I have finely turned wee wrists and I love them.
  7. I love the inside of my knee. It's soft and I don't know why but I love it.
  8. And lastly? My big dead sexy brains. I love my brain it makes me TEH HOTNESS.
The verdict on the Britney album. Cheesy effects, some bouncy beats, her voice not great but she is working it. Decent enough to make me want to go out dancing. Yes it makes me want to get hoochiefied (no crotch shots though) and go shake my shit.

While on the subject of hoochieness I will tellz you internetz, I am one who enjoys the trashy. I don't care what anyone says I find great pleasure in dressing tartily, and (here goes some of my street cred certainly) behave in a less than ladylike manner.

When I say less than ladylike I mean any of the following. Groping, smooching, occasional flashing, the super occasional barfight (I have been involved with 3 and started 2 other ones), loudness, dancing on tables, the dirty dancing, ladies room make outs. Seriously. Granted I am calmer now than I was when I was younger but still.

I like going to strip clubs and fooling stupid straight boys into buying me lap dances.

I have also been known to induce bicuriosity in women who've not really had any. Usually in the form of smooches I will ask for while batting my eyelashes and working the cleavage.

I will hit on your wife. As I've told many men I know. And no not in a jerky way but in a , "I think you are super beautiful" kind of way.

I'm only jerky to few people.

Okay I think I am finally spent.

Going to make my dinner and listen to the new Jay Z album.

Homo Out.

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