Welcome To Gutterpunk Journalism

I am alone again, as in "officially sans boyfriend", not so much as in "feeling lonesome". Shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who knows details, it was pretty much inevitable and just a matter of time.

The break up doesn't even dramatically change anything, I just happened to have this guy who I fucked, whos feelings for me had great potential, but went horribly awry, leaving the situation as follows: We don't see each other for half a week, then the other half is a roller coaster of blissful awesomeness and deeply aggravating misuse.
Lately, I couldn't even fuck him anymore since the damage done just accumlulated to irreversable resent and contempt.

So the only alteration is that there is still the feeling of "what a shame. All elements combined, it should've been fantastic", and moments of desorientation when, for example, I find a blue plastic sled on the street and my first reaction is a) to take it, and b) call him to yell: "I found a blue plastic sled! Let's teach Horace to pull it so I don't have to walk through Berlin anymore or any such undignified thing! What great fun!"
And then I realize Oh wait. No.

It's still awful on a certain level though ~ I don't get accustomed to new boys easily and do not fall in love on a whim. So I honestly wouldn't be surprised if it took years until I find someone that's of more use than just a fuck. I just don't give my heart away to anyone who's simply there. Inge was only my second relationship.

But it also means I can senselessly fuck away any void he leaves.

So ladies, I heart you but at the moment, I need cock rammed into me in such a way that any coherent thought is obliterated in the bud. So boys, if you look like this:









(^^ I love Marcel in that picture. I don't know where he gets all the muscle from as soon as a camera points his way.)





and are not gay, you know where to find me.

That's sort of what I want right now... although I'll take a common, ordinary, non~flamboyant gutterpunk as well, as long as he's good for my purposes and skinny.

Anyone else need not apply.

Kthx.


Oh hey, I found this ancient image of Marcel, Noraly and myself:



This I love greatly, it's my page in tmronin's polaroid book, I don't recall if I've posted it already or not:




So, I was spider woman the other night.

I went to Marcel&Daniel's place to get my hair done (I still have no decent images of it... Bexi? See you next tuesday maybe?) before going out to some photographer's birthday at some club, and closed the bathroom door since I needed to pee.
Just closed, not locked.
Since there is no way to lock, there are merely three flimsy hooks on the inside of the door and only one actually works.

And I'm done and try to open the door and it's stuck.

And that's pretty much the most undignified situation you can be in, really ~ a bathroom you can't get out of and need to knock like an ass to catch anyone's attention who might or might not be in hearing distance.

I'm glad it happened where I don't have to impress anyone, because that moment is full of fail.

Even if it's not your fault.

It's a Berlin Altbau, these places are fucked up. They're sturdy as hell, so when something breaks, like the latch inside the door, the little snappy thing that closes it, and acts as a little barricade in a tiny place you cannot reach, there is nothing to do besides resorting to accept you cannot wrench it open, you cannot kick it open, you cannot throw your entire (puny) weight against it to open, you cannot even bend tweezers to pry it open because remember, the snappy is broken and jarred in some distorted angle.

So what you do is climb. First, on top of the toilet to get to the shelf, and from that down the 2 meter chute that eventually leads to the teeny tiny window which opens to the back part of the house. You're only on the second or third floor, but still.
It's high enough to at least break a leg or neck.

So anyway, I scrambled up there and out of the window, pretended I was a little fly with sticky feet while scaling the outside wall, to end up in the roomie's window a few feet over, to a bunch of arms that pulled me inside.

That's what friends are for, aren't they?

I heart my friends.


Here are some latex pictures for and by highglossdolls:

The FAQs:

Remember, if you know me and see I've forgotten a crucial question, please tell me.