Author: foxtongue

mostly just make me laugh – linger on

Things learned at SinCity:

  •  in spite of short shorts, Nicholson still manages to be a big sexy bunny rabbit.
  • Adrian has hardly any  sense of rythym but dances anyways (yay)
  • (plus it’s one of the cutest things in the world to watch him dirty dance with girls)
  • like, really really adorable (aww – widdle whiteboy dancing… AWWWWW)
  • some people can dance in short shorts.
  • and huuuuuge scary shoes.
  • and both
  • and still look good *puzzled at that one*
  • I really don’t like the tongue/ear combination
  • threatening to whip certain people will help them quit smoking, because then there’s a reward
  • it is possible to meet lovely people at fetish nights who aren’t wierd
  • it is more than possible to dance till you drop
  • the dropping part isn’t as fun
  • the thought of actually getting physically intimate with anyone at the moment actually makes me ill
  • again
  • fetish night still has far superior music to goth night
  • there are less large leering men than previously remembered
  • I’m learning to dance again
  • though not used to falling over yet
  • the elf guy with the staring game still looks like Bill
  • plastic boning is evil

and that’s not it, but that’s all for now

 

black tie

I’ve gothed up vaguely for SinCity tonight. It’s not much, but should pass muster at the door. It’s not like it’s a fussy fetish night. It’s not like I have a fetish that involves leather. The damned plastic-boned corset dress just refuses to fit properly unless effort is involved, and I don’t feel it’s worth it. Silks for me this evening.  I’ll make sure pictures are caught. My lips have been purpled, deepend aubergine as plums. No make-up, so I did do with hair dye.

 

I want my hair back.

sin foreboding delightful

I wake up, I wake up, I wake up

there’s a quarter of ths city haunted in ways that wish to kill us. they are attracted by media and take the shape of ancient warriors.  We fear because there is death here. everywhere.

abstract

the raindrops aren’t outside anymore – I woke up lonely

tonight I’m to make myself pretty. I wish someone was over to help me deepen my hair to the roots of it’s natural colour. it’s sunny outside, but I’m listening to the wrong sort of music for that to matter. really, i’m wasting my time with nothing to do on this sadly sunny saturday afternoon. I suppose I’m waiting, but nothing ever happens. there’s pictures waiting for me to pay for thier freedom but no-one to sing with me once I get them

i think my fear of heights is gone because i no longer want to throw myself from the tops.

{higher than anything, picnicking on top of the north shore grain elevators – the orange wash of sodium light glittering}

*kapow*sparkles*

{Certain Tori Amos sounds like it belongs in the backround of a girl-oriented video game. A first person shooter with sparkles.}

I went to the house today. He sent me a letter asking to call. I went to a job interview, checked out the burned out church, bought a flower, and unexpectedly was found on the doorstep. (After I knocked, of course).

After the usual blundering defensiveness, things actually went very very nicely. I skipped when I walked, I smiled when I thought.

*bang*

It’s nice.