I have this itch, inbetween my knees. I can’t quite reach it on my own. I’m just going to bend over this counter top, would you mind taking a look with your tongue?

I hate weekends. I am never productive on saturdays… or sundays for that matter. It is almost 1pm and I am drinking vodka & brio for breakfast with a nice side of fancy cheese & pate on crackers. In theory I was supposed to bake cookies for my friends party today, but I ran out of flour and getting drunk before 2pm seemed like a better idea anyways. I really should be cleaning today, I leave for Nowhere Scotia in 5 days (maybe I should consider packing as well) and I can’t have this place be a festering cesspool of yuck while I am gone… And yet, here I sit with nothing better to say than : I’m half way done this bottle of brio/voddy mix.

Let’s talk birthday. I must be doing something right because every year my birthday keeps getting better. Someone wished me a happy belated birthday with “I hope it was ‘Ok'” and it made me wonder if my blogging makes me sound like a terribly troubled individual. I know that sometimes it is a little more honest than some writing, I dont really enjoy sugar coating my writing or my RL personality for anyone, but I never thought that I gave of the air that I needed a psych exam (depending on which ‘friend’ youve been speaking to of mine I am sure they will say I do – despite their own character flaws). But I digress (evidence of needing a psych exam, probably) – BIRTHDAY! I got an on air shout out from a new friend Denis Dirty Work, chatted up some lovely queer porn stars, watched about 3 hours of queer porn, got to educate my coworkers on queer porn, and then saw one of my favourite bands live. My late 20’s are going to rock.

list of things I didnt get for my birthday:

  • – a revolution
  • – birthday spankings
  • – 200 followers on twitter
  • – fucked
  • – new high heels
  • – kidnapped

if any one would like to remedy this please contact me

I don’t need :

  • ¬†friends who want to get into my pants one day and then fall off the face of the planet the next. I know enough passing strangers who do that.
  • people who want to be my friend based on the fact that I am a freak/geek/glorified slut, combine them all and I make one fabulous person but fetishising me based on just one of them boxes me into an identity that I cant live up to.
  • another father figure to tell me what to wear, what not to wear, where to go, what to do, how to do. I’ve had enough parenting in my life, if I do something chances are there is a pointed reason behind it.

I do need :

  • a new best friend to wake up next to on snowy weekends, to build forts under the blankets with, to cuddle/fuck/cook for/hold hands with/take baths with.
  • crafting buddies who want to make the world a prettier place
  • adventure buddies who want to break into abandoned building with me