Happy New Year’s Eve, followers.
However you choose to celebrate it,
may you be the fairest maid of them all.
“Like a bird on the wire
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free.”
Confession: I’ve had a crush on Taran Killam since his awful frosted hair days on The Amanda Show. And this really only confirms my uncomfortable crush on him.
I’m out for the night with some pretty awesome plans. Hopefully, it will be considerably better than the teensy fiasco earlier this week.
(Source: foglicious)
So, the day before I left campus, that guy from my frat (fuck it, I’m calling him that from now on) tried to bootycall me.
Earlier that evening, we were with some friends and he tried to pull some moves on me. I may have been a little receptive, but I don’t think I completely put the light on and said I was down.
And it wasn’t even the fact that he did it so much as how he did it. He said he wanted to “say goodbye to me and wish me happy holidays”. At 1 o’clock in the morning. Okay.
He then tried again the next day during the afternoon before I headed home. I guess he wanted some afternoon delight. Credit for creativity, maybe? But, for God’s sake, minus points for desperation.
I don’t know what specifically bothers me about it, but something about it just felt so unclean.
(Source: theshimmyspot)
The Winter Formal, Part 6
The lights were almost completely down on the dance floor, the music was fast, the room was a sea of hands and swaying bodies. Blue fetched us some beers and we started to dance.
When Byron got into talking to a friend, Blue pulled me into him and we started dancing. He lifted my chin up and started kissing me, his hands holding me in that sort of sexy, skillful way where they feel absent and present at the same time.
He turned me and brought me to Byron, who started to kiss me as well. I was between them. There was something terribly arousing about being between the two of them, both having a good foot and change on me height-wise, and practically feeling contained within them.
“I should get our coats,” Byron said as we concluded we would be leaving.
As he walked off, Blue turned me to face him and placed a hand on my cheek before leaning down to the spot on my neck where I had been licked by the creeper earlier in the night. His lips were soft, it was gentle and yet almost strong. It was completely erotic.
After a few moments, he pulled back and smiled down at me. My cheeks were burning.
(Source: sincitygirl73)
Blue bra? Nope.
Red lace panties? You betcha.
Green thigh highs? If only.
One third of the way to life imitating art. Or something. Tell me this little arrangement isn’t perfect.
So, I met a freshman in the pack I ran with last night. She reminded me a ton of my Dacry. And, when a few of us were naming our celebrity crushes, she came right out and said, “Jiz Lee.”
Sounds like my kind of girl.
For friendship, that is. We wound up talking for hours. She reminded me a lot of myself and we, in some sort of silly way, agreed for some sort of mentorship arrangement. Like big brother/big sister but with a bad influence.
Let’s call her Fresh from now on.
Confession: When I get stressed out, I like to dance around to music in my room. However, as the description of this tumblr states, I have thin walls and I feel bad for playing the same five (terrible) songs over and over. So, I usually wind up being a human iPod commercial with my headphones in.
Today, I’m wearing a knee-high heeled boots (no, this is not to begin your masturbatory fantasy, or…) that kind of make noise when I walk. My roommate from last year now lives directly below me and I just got this text from her, “dancing? :P If you’re stressed out, I’ve got cookies.”
Oh, good, now that I know my floors are thin, too…