Uploaded a few pictures of myself. Looking at them make me realize how laughably introverted I am. Not one single picture with someone else.
Bugger.
I'm re-reading the Wheel of Time series. Fuck me, but I can't pick up some real literture to save my life. I feel as if I'm miserably stuck in a whirlpool of cheesy fantasy fiction that blantantly rips-off Tolkien. Feh... but I deserve a little respite. I swear to God, tomorrow I'll re-read the Aeneid TWICE to compensate.
No, that's a filthy lie. But it's your fault that I told it. Some how.
I started my internship at the National Council on Crime and Delinquency yesterday. I was nervous, quiet, and rarely spoke. Midway, I realized the girl instructing me how to use the system looked surprisingly like Thea.
During my Junior year of high school, I was thoroughly convinced that Thea was the single most beautiful woman on the face of this planet. Claiming otherwise would earn you a just and righteous neck-punch. Thea's world, much to my confusion, revolved around her vagina. Or, more accurately, things being done to her vagina by an ugly and self-inflated Freshman who was convinced he was meant to be born a woman.
Now, while cross-dressing is hardly anything of note; declaring every bloody day that you're horribly oppressed when the worst dosage of prejudice you get is a comment that your skirt doesn't go with your eyes is justifiable grounds for homocide.
Where was I? Oh right! Thea's vagina. No, wait, the internship.
I am at an impasse. Should I talk about vagina or the internship?
Hmmmm...
"Her finger running down the base of my neck. I know this is love."
Bugger.














I'm re-reading the Wheel of Time series. Fuck me, but I can't pick up some real literture to save my life. I feel as if I'm miserably stuck in a whirlpool of cheesy fantasy fiction that blantantly rips-off Tolkien. Feh... but I deserve a little respite. I swear to God, tomorrow I'll re-read the Aeneid TWICE to compensate.
No, that's a filthy lie. But it's your fault that I told it. Some how.
I started my internship at the National Council on Crime and Delinquency yesterday. I was nervous, quiet, and rarely spoke. Midway, I realized the girl instructing me how to use the system looked surprisingly like Thea.
During my Junior year of high school, I was thoroughly convinced that Thea was the single most beautiful woman on the face of this planet. Claiming otherwise would earn you a just and righteous neck-punch. Thea's world, much to my confusion, revolved around her vagina. Or, more accurately, things being done to her vagina by an ugly and self-inflated Freshman who was convinced he was meant to be born a woman.
Now, while cross-dressing is hardly anything of note; declaring every bloody day that you're horribly oppressed when the worst dosage of prejudice you get is a comment that your skirt doesn't go with your eyes is justifiable grounds for homocide.
Where was I? Oh right! Thea's vagina. No, wait, the internship.
I am at an impasse. Should I talk about vagina or the internship?
Hmmmm...











"Her finger running down the base of my neck. I know this is love."
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
you don't want me stalking you again, do you? you're running out of pets, aren't you?
Hello, ta for the welcome.
Hows u doin?