Cynical optimist. Uppity bitch. Rump shaker. Money maker. Enigma extraordinaire. Penguin enthusiast. Sleep connoisseur. Food evangelist. Lipstick extremist. Titty fanatic. Motorboat champion. Easily distracted. Not easily impressed. Certified potty mouth. Unapologetically vulgar. Classy as fuck.I'm here to read and have fun. You're more than welcome to be a part of that if you'd like. But please be aware that I'm unavailable for anything more than friendly chat. Camp out in my friend zone at your own risk...just make sure you're good at rationing your resources. Seriously...if you wanna be my friend just be my friend. But that 'friend with ulterior motives' bullshit is for the birds. If you say what you mean and mean what you say, then you're fine in my book (with exceptions, of course).*Disclaimer: Whatever my current avatar may be is NOT me. It's NEVER me. Most likely it's some gorgeous girl with amazing hair, or Beyoncé in a pair of chaps and a sexy white bodysuit wrangling a conspicuous looking penguin. It may even be a pair of flashy panties. Whatever the case may be, the avatar most definitely is not me.*
It's so crazy seeing this conversation just 7 years later.
When said someone decides they're a slut.There are no set rules for slutism. It's what you (as an individual) make it.
So there's enough room for yo' momma. http://25.media.tumblr.com/df470f577fd539de8571e0ca21d33410/tumblr_mo8yp8VLaT1qdlh1io1_r1_400.gif
Consider this:The universe is big.Some titties are big.Titties = the universe.
Growing up, I was the over achiever who had to always prove herself...for a multitude of reasons that I don't really wanna get into. In some respects, I'm still that way. But it's not even remotely as bad as it used to be when I was growing up. As cheesy as this is gonna sound, when I graduated high school, I was gifted with the book 'Oh the Places You'll Go' by Dr. Seuss. It has Dr. Seuss's signature silliness to it, but reading it as a young adult vs. reading it now, I think it's so powerful in its simplicity.Given my nature of over-achieving, sometimes I get to a place where I let even the smallest mistakes (sometimes the ones that no one notices or perceives as a mistake but me) throw me off balance. Although I could seriously post the entire book in this thread (because the entire thing applies), I actually have this particular passage from 'Oh the Places You'll Go' bookmarked to read over when I find myself in a slump for making a mistake:"...Wherever you fly, you'll be best of the best.Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.Except when you don't.Because, sometimes, you won't.I'm sorry to say but, sadly, it's true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you."They may not be the most encouraging words, but they humble me remind me that I'm human. And as such, I'm bound to make mistakes, imagined or otherwise. And then I don't feel so shitty anymore.
I feel them in my chest, Clawing their way through my throat Until they finally reach the tip of my tongue And that's where they stay. Don't ask me what they are Let me show you. Take the kisses from my lips And wrap them around you Let them sip from your cup Until it runs dry. The pounding in your ears Is the song of my soul. You won't hear it in whispered words, But in every gasp...
Added 19 Sep 2013 | Category Love Poems
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