Off to nicey-nice land,
where bein' a Real Live
Woman and not puttin'
no rock on the boat is
a free pass to a conflict
free IL?

May I add,
a Real Live
Woman who
plays to male
stereotypes?

Which most fucks
w/shwings here don'
cowtow to.

'Cept Alf, our
Internet predator.

He'll "Hon"
ya down.

Wow. You bored?

He will, I'm confident -- someday after a faggy cocktail event.

I thought she was off to NOLA with the amateur porn king 'bro.

Oh, Sliver, you precious thing.

A thread dedicated to me!

And here I thought you always wanted the spot light.

Oh well, I guess she's still around.

Hi hon!

Hi, sugar.

*Gack*
You two make me sick. Get a room, or a webcam.

No thank you. I learned my lesson about photographic evidence.

Besides, I'm not that photogenic. I'm completely dependent on my real life brilliance and epoch-making exploits.

Do tell


or, on secong thought,

don't.

I won't. I must be drunk or something. There's a germ wandering through my veins also. I thought it was a hangover but it can't be dislodged with cheap Merlot.
Still love Pymph.

A big kiss to you (just because it pisses off Dinky).

So that's where you keep it.


Go ahead. Pour saccharin on the wound.

And now I've got
more than spiders
to be afraid of
lippin' me.

Umm, no. It doesn't piss me off.

It just grosses me out!!!!

Slattern slobber?

Obscene, public displays of making the nice?

Syphilis?

I tried to catch a syph over a decade ago, to make my poetry sell better, but it didn't work out. I guess the germ wasn't interested.

Well, that's a reason.

That's called
a Dink tease.