PICS
This blog will be stripped to the bare necessities, I'm so busy sewing a Dirndl for a shoot with Stellaris. Non SG, sorry, but you might get a peek once it's done.
(Oh, and yes, feel free to laugh abundantly at the thought of me and a dirndl in any connection whatsoever. It's ludicrous, I know.
)First: Birtday Sale!
My birthday is september 15th, so from now until then, all dresses are off 20%
Secondly, I am infuriated that the ongoing site maintenance has to occur right when Myra's set goes into MR. She hasn't shot a set in years, and when she does, no one is able to view it or comment on it. It's just so goddamn discouraging. And... she looks amazing in it!
She's so pretty! And also one of the most wonderful and hilariously funny people I've ever met, I ♥ her greatly, and so should you.
Konterfei
Similar with KaroNaeon, who is Myra's friend and so utterly cute and quirky, oddball goofy, lovely.
Blue Bonanza
That's what we call the bike in german, by the way.
Karo has never done any modeling whatsoever, she did such a fantastic job. I didn't do half as well on my first shoot, and I didn't even get naked then.
So, here's something for the girls or gay guys, Eric being tattooed by Justin. It was kind of a wet dream:
... and I was there.
Those are the moments in which I love my life. Also, while I'm at it, this:
Anyhow, we went to this little festival, three boys on motorcycles and me, but since the site still won't let me upload pictures, I can't show you anything, except the cat, whose name is Alice Schwarzer:
Which is kind of funny since Alice Schwarzer is, while somewhat controversial, the most well known and outspoken feminist in all of germany.
Here's Horace being Helpful Horace, carrying his share of groceries:
Stu being Stu:
and me with my niece:
(excuse my idiotic facial expression)
I shot some new clothing pictures:
And my friend Marcel with his work tools:
In fact, I am surrounded by gorgeous boys:
and Rupert, our visitor the other night:
This is me again:
And this is me shot by Claude:
Lastly, some bizarre mutant insect stung or bit me and my poor right leg has swollen and is hurting terribly. The doctor said it would be less painful if I were fatter, because then the toxins or venom or poison or infection or whatever would spread through the fat tissue. Since I'm skinny, it's all lumped into one spot and I'm in pain.
I do kind of marvel at the idea of being used as a host for mutant insect eggs through... I'll let you know of my adopted litter once they hatch.
Sorry for grossing you out.
Ok, all of this was more than the bare necessities. I'm bad at reduction.
♥
The FAQs:
Remember, if you know me and see I've forgotten a crucial question, please tell me.
I'm a blonde again:
I am extremely proud to announce an accomplishment which has been deemed difficult and undoable by various people, and which I have thus done all by myself: The brand new, very own, BILINGUAL online shop for Anthracite.
It's such a milestone for me, since I'm not subjected to layouts of shop websites that want money for everything I sell. So while I'm keeping the other shops, I'm also very happy that I finally have my own, with which I can do as I please.
However, it seems to be just my luck that the minute I finish it, it's summer vacation time and I get no orders whatsoever, since everyone has gone to the Bahamas and spent their money on flights and bathing suits. Oh well.
No use griping, here is a new outfit:
I went so Switzerland to shoot, here are some impressions:
Not only was it fun to also see Sheena and eat the most amazing veggie chili ever, the trip uncovered some interesting possibilities, of which I may reveal some in my next entry, should they happen. Please keep your fingers crossed and knock on wood for us.
Eric and I defiantly tore loose of all our commitments and chores and debt to spend three days on the road, similar to last year. After that first trip, we were engaged though, so nothing could top the epicness, but it was wonderful nonetheless. We are so burdened by trying to straighten our lives out for future plans that we just work all day, never go out, never have any fun that costs anything, so this trip was such an amazing relief.
I don't know why, but this year the ride absolutely ruined my face. Three days of perpetual wind, dust and pebbles and insects turned it into a pathetically dry and cracked landscape of doom. Observe:
So, we looked beat up, but made it home.
A quick bicycle update:
I tattooed Stu on me:
And shot a few pictures, me at work for instance:
And others:
Stellaris:
And my friends. I'm surrounded by good looking dudes:
And a snapshot of their engagement rings:
(Belonging to only two of the shown boys, of course, the third is engaged to me. )
Here's Horace, being contemplative in the park, at dusk, with ball:
That was it, pretty much. Before I leave, remember the sets I shot, in MR this month, of KaroNaeon:
and Myra:
Bye ♥
The FAQs:
Remember, if you know me and see I've forgotten a crucial question, please tell me.
Where have we left off? Doesn't matter. Let me tell you about Stu.
^^ That was him the day he came to us.
Yes, I know he's wildlife. Yes, I know I should've left him, but he would've died. I should've left him at the vet, but they would've euthanized him. I should've sought out his nest, but after half an hour of searching, there simply was none. No trees, no cracks in the house facades, no bushes, no nothing. I could've left him with the kids that found and touched him, but that didn't seem like such a great idea either.
So I took him and bought baby bird food.
I raised two sparrows when I was 13, I hoped I'd do an equally good job now.
It's amazing how such a little tiny being can cause such a ruckus, both in volume and emotionally. I was in total animal-mom-mode the second I decided to not leave him lying around on the street. I was totally in control of everything and knew exactly what to do all day long, but the second anything went wrong, I just dissolved into an anxious mess of terrible, crippling fear that he could die. He hasn't.
But he is so fragile, so unfathomably tiny. His bones are so brittle and his eyes such tiny little beads that close downside up, he even has miniscule lashes on his eyelids. He's so tiny and in need of so much protection.
The first nights I hardly slept, constantly expecting him to need something. Alas, he was already old enough to not demand food every two hours, instead he fell asleep at 10pm and woke at 6am sharp, and very loudly.
I called him Stubborn Stuart because he initially refused to eat. He changed his mind and turned far less obstinate about the intake of delicious baby food quite quickly, but the name "Stu" still stuck.
Stu lived in his little box at first, he wasn't capable of flying. Within the next two days, he began very ambitious flight attempts and generally became very bold. (Horace was freaked out by him from the very start and avoided any contact. He just couldn't really understand a bird taken so utterly out of context!)
But since he was obviously a teenager then and scoffed at his stupid baby box, I went and built him his new room:
Around a week after adopting him, we saw the veterenarian specialist who is also in charge of reintroducing birds into the wilderness, to let him go. Both Eric and I cried uncontrollably.
The result of our visit was that Stu would remain with us, and we would get a couple of other chickadees that couldnt be reintroduced either due to health conditions or just severe impairments. This was not due to our snot and tear filled, hickup-y appearance, but rather to her patient explanations and debating the entire situation.
This is definitely illegal, but what it boils down to is that he probably wouldn't survive outside due to several reasons, such as his age, his tameness, him not seeing dogs as a threat, some odd chickadee epidemic that caused the highest number of them being found in 30 years in some sickly condition, and a bunch of beurocratic reasons that would take to long to explain.
As of yesterday, he has his final home. The bird now resides in Villa Stu:
Here he
is being
himself.
So... he's alive. And presumably, happy. Everyone loves him. (except Horace, who thinks he's quite dispensable.
) I hope he gets really old, and I hope we get another bird to keep him company!
So, besides Stu, here are some images I've shot, but before those, let me ask you to say hello to KaroNaeon! She's super cute, Myra's good friend, and she got naked for you in front of my camera. Sneak peek!
(Entire set viewable in august.)
(All the boring images of just me being semi naked are 'product images', if you will, from selling whatever I'm wearing. So forgive the blandness. I just thought you might be interested. )
Anyhow, as usual - if you can't wait to see my pictures and whatever I'm up to, you should add me on facebook (tell me who you are though, otherwise I'll put you in my No Idea list, and that sucks because you'll hardly see anything) and like my Anthracite page.
While we're at it, if you like car detailing and motorcycle stuff, check out the very new Garage No.12 and Garage No.12 on facebook, and of course Sparkkey.
The garage is, very literally, our own garage number 12 under our apartment. We didn't even know we could rent it, let alone that we had the key to it in an unidentified bundle since taking the apartment. It's all kinds of awesome. Neither Eric nor I have ever lived so spectacularly awesome.
There was a lot of work to do in it, but it's slowly turning into car detailing heaven. And of course, I'm planning to shoot a set in it, since it looks amazing now:
Watch.
In other news, I am in so much debt due to all my legal troubles and general I-don't-care attitude of over ten years that I am forced to work off some of it instead of going to jail. I have been doing this since last year, and will continue to do so until at least october.
I spend my days a bit frustrated, since I can't focus on work as much as I'd like and need to, but also glad that a) working instead of sitting in jail is even possible and b) that half the time, I get to repair bicycles. I also do all the clichee stuff like clean up public places and especially a playground. I am even very often exposed to kids, usually quite exhausting ghetto kids that can hardly form a sentence. Zak assumes that being in contact with me will make them either much more disturbed or very awesome on the long run. I vote for the latter.
Surprisingly, they nearly always do exactly what I want them to do. This is partly because I'm the scary skinny tattooed girl with orange hair, and partly because (prepare to be offended now) I use dog training basics on them:
1) praise good behavior immediately
2) reprimand or ignore bad behavior immediately
3) offer deals, like: I want your attention, so check out this tattoo on my hand. Awesome, right? I have your attention. Now do this thing I want you to do, and I'll tell you about the other tattoo. Everyone's happy.
In my very shallow and limited dealings with them, it works like a charm.
But I'm happiest working on bicycles, cleaning them, building them, repairing them, learning about them. Through lucky circumstances, I have aquired this lovely little thing:
for 20€ and two cigarettes. It was terribly neglected and utterly unusable. But after a lot of scrubbing, some new parts and a lot of adjusting, she's great now.
I felt infinitely genial when I thought of using my clothes rail as an assembly stand:
I also got my hands on this, which I rescued from the junk pile:
I'm still not entirely sure what it'll end up as (I don't even like racers!), but that doesn't really matter since I just enjoy fiddling with it. It is taking some sort of shape though:
Yes, gold. No compromise.
I do get the feeling I could be endlessly happy just working on clothes and bicycles and tending to the boy, dog and bird all day. I don't really need anything else.
Although the reactions I get to working on mechanical or technical things are incredibly sucky and disheartening a lot of the time. Honestly, around 80% of my experiences dealing with shops or other people have been somehow negative.
I'm sure there are assholes everywhere, and I really want to avoid screaming about how it's only because I'm a girl, but... I kind of get the feeling it is.
At least, when I ask guys whether salespeople start snickering when the ask for a headset wrench, they say it usually doesn't happen. Or if they're told in all sincerity that it doesn't matter which length of chain you use on your bike, just whatever, that doesn't really happen. Or if they ask their coworker, who is about as capable as they are, if they need any help, and they say: "Yeah, you could clean up the work shop.", that also doesn't happen.
What also annoys me is how, for example, when I ask for a specific cleaning spray, everyone is always super keen on telling me I'm wrong, I should do this or that instead, without knowing what I'm planning to do or having seen my bike. This goes for anything, really. Without knowing what you're up to, they always know exactly what you shouldn't do. The fun part is, if you wait half an hour and suggest doing what they said, their mind changes so that again, you're wrong and they're right.
It's hard because I still have so many questions about so many things, but I am also very certain in the abilities that I have. But whatever. I've found two shops which are great and helpful, I'll just stick to those. ♥
I promise an actual update very soon ((work-) life has been a rollercoaster of excitement and I have NO TIME AT ALL, so sorry also about not replying to comments and such), but real quick for now:
I don't ordinarily ask for votes because it's tacky, but I've entered a fashion contest very late and need to catch up in order to win the production of my designs, or even better, magazine features in magazines I really like, and generally parties and fashion and cocaine, I'm sure.
Please help me out with this thing!
I'll ♥ you forever.
First of all, since my facebook account has beein deleted again for showing a nipple or something, feel free to add me and like my page.
Let me know who you are on SG though, so I can file you into the right lists!
If not, I'll put you into "No Idea", which is where you see nothing. I am tragically forced to do this due to weird psycho exes and general assholery which gets my account deleted all the fucking time.
Once more, a hectic blog filled with fillers. Pictures instead of stories, I kind of apologize. And kind of not, since I'm just SO BUSY all the time, and the pictures are a great pacifier until I get to tell stories again.
Let me introduce Piper, who is too gorgeous for words. I shot her and stood mesmerized, not just by her amazing beauty, but by her aura, the sense of who and what she is she carries, her presence.
I hardly photoshopped her, this is the way she looks:
I need to shoot a set for her.
By the way, I shot a set for Myra which turned out fantastic, and a set for her best friend, which promises to be super cute as well. Stay tuned.
Oh, we had one blissful day of almost summer:
I have mountain bike riding thighs.
Other recent pictures of me in my clothes:
I made this shirt with Horacenose and everyone seems to love it:
I've "sold" a bunch of them; "sold" being in quotation marks since I only ask for my expenses. If you want one, shout.
Eric being thoughtful and contemplative about the aesthetic direction the pony would take. She's actually a lot slimmer and trimmer now, but I have yet to see her in person (not just pictures), since all changes are very new. I'm not sure what to think, since I can very much aesthetically appreciate her new appearance, but my nostalgia won't agree with it.
Her figure in the picture (with wheel, of course) is what she looked like when Eric first took me home with him that fateful night, and when he proposed to me. I really can't let go that easily, she seems like a stranger in her new attire.
Other very random pictures:
My friend Daniel and I being classy and tasteful, as usual:
The bicycle with the human head:
My nephew Deji, who puked surprisingly pungent babypuke all over my shoulder and then proceeded to yell about it:
And Horace enjoying sprintime and being very handsome:
The yellow dog is Bruno, Horace new best friend. He's approximately 800 years old and Horace adores him to bits. No idea why, but Horace generally dislikes annoying teenagers and loves dogs that are so ancient they can barely walk.
Here he is being cute some more:
Alright. That's all for now, I'm working, working, working.
A lot of times while outside with the dog, waiting in waiting rooms, or running errands, I think of clever thoughts and stories I should share, but they never really remain memorable enough to actually write. I forget. It's because I'm too busy.
Oh, I attempted at shooting a set for myself on monday, but it turned out terrible. I just wanted too much and was overworked. I shot 4 girls, and me beign the last one, in a hotel about to check out, it was bound to fail. Doesn't matter though, I'm just glad it was my pictures, and not one of the other girls', that were ruined.
I leave you with some sex:
Those were hard to do. And until now, it's still weird seeing myself with cock inside of me. But he likes making me multitask.
My life is on hold a little, since my work is my life for the most part, and I'm waiting for a huge payment that will enable me to pick up all that is waiting. Until then, I eat noodles with salt and take pictures.
I got paid to look cute for these, so I tried:
And Eric, who wasn't paid to look cute, so he didn't:
And in case you missed the last entry:
We moved! We're settling. It's taking a bit. It's incredible. It's relieving. It's exciting. This is the place we moved into:
Probably not what most would find attractive, but wildly, passionately perfect for Eric and myself.
Let me give you a tour... My work room:
Still very improvised and not done with renovation. It's a gazillion times better than my old place, but will be mind blowing once it's done. Everything will be white and silver. Everything.
Our bedroom:
A corner of the kitchen:
The hallway:
And for those who like it sloppy, a corner of my work room:
Nearly all of those above are "product images". I've been selling lots of, erm, stuff lately. And yes, that last batch was all mid-blowjob, obviously. This was afterwards:
Teeheehee.
Here's a new pair of pants I made, to counterbalance all these weirdly bulgy jersey crimes I've seen around here that look as though one had shat themself. Seriously, what's up with those things? Do they wear them around where you are, or is it just a Berlin thing?
Anyway, absolutely non-bulgy jeans:
If you're interested in seeing images like the above as soon as they are shot, you should like my Anthracite page.
(Obviously, feel free to add me as well. )
You know what the most luxurious aspect of the new place is? Not the space, which is exuberant, not the price, which is great, not the fact that everything works the way it should and I have warm water any old time I like it, for the first time in nine years, BUT: It's directly opposite a park.
This is the view from my work room:
Granted, a bit triste this time of year, but in a month it'll be sweet, and in two, enchanting.
Not only do I not have some random naked slob or old lady directly opposite of me when I look out of the window, it's also total Horace paradise. He's out in the park like five times a day. Spoiled little brat.
Oh, I nearly forgot - here's Myra, shot at the old place:
Hehehe... you might want to check out Horace when he's alone. We filmed him the other day in order to figure out what he's up to, and it was... enlightening.
(Please excuse the place looking sloppy, it was mid-moving-week.)
And I leave you with some Blondie, just because. I admit, I've always had a massive soft spot for that song:
I'm letting my hair grow, by the way. Eric hates it and constantly wants to shave my head.
Bye!
The FAQs:
Remember, if you know me and see I've forgotten a crucial question, please tell me.
Life is amazing again.
More later, I'm busy.
The FAQs:
Remember, if you know me and see I've forgotten a crucial question, please tell me.
