drawing – Page 3

Some things:

So, I got told by an anonymous asker that I was a “lying cunt spewing bullshit” in reference to my opinion of the verdict last night. I will not share the ask, I’m doing too much to dignify it already by acknowledging it, but it’s full of self-assuring paranoid descriptions of basically why no young black man should be trusted and (as you can see) a completely unoriginal way to discredit me: essentially calling me a dishonest vagina. So let’s establish this now: If you have a problem with my politics, unfollow me. No one is forcing you to read this blog.
I also woke up to find a lot of cute, nice things in my inbox that completely outnumbered the ridiculous message so hurray.
I’m seeing Craftsmate today and even though we probably won’t be able to get enough privacy to have some sexy times, we have a fun day planned.
This made me laugh.
I have been squirming and fantasizing about this since I saw it. So consider that a strong hint to whoever wants to take it.

erosart:

Wanderer by Audrey Kawasaki

Sometimes it means this.

And sometimes it means getting high, making hash browns and marathoning Game of Thrones.

Today, it’s the latter.

My entire OKCupid experience, embodied.

Or, rather, how I should’ve responded to some of the things people said.

But ignoring them worked, too.

Remember what you said, Craftsmate?

schoneseele:

oh yeah, do it

(by Keith P. Rein)

– schöne seele

On Monday, the doctor said I looked a lot better but that I had to keep at taking care of myself and going easy.

Tonight, at dinner, The Redhead looked up at me and said that the color was back in my face and that I looked like myself again.

Thank you, all, for your well wishes.

And, yes, I’ve learned my lesson.

Teehee.

This past Friday night, I was talking with my best friend here at Ivy University and she mentioned that she had been hanging out with that guy from my frat and he had brought me up in conversation. Recently, he had said something vaguely complimentary and a little rude about me to Craftsmate, so I rolled my eyes and tried to change the subject.

“He says that he really wanted something with you but realizes that if you two were ever something that it probably wouldn’t last long. And he would rather be your friend and not lose you,” she blurted out.

It was the most vindicating thing I could possibly hear. Things were strange and ambiguous and he had been fluctuating between aggressive pursuit and then trying to basically Almost Famous me away to Craftsmate. I wanted to be his friend, just his friend, without the weird grey areas and the weird nonsense flirting.

Fast-forward a few hours. We’ve all had a little too much to drink and I spot that guy from my frat, rush over, throw my arms open and say a little too loudly, “I want to be your friend, too!”

“Ivy, we are friends,” he replied, laughing. He hugged me close.

I could feel that I was smiling like a moron, “that’s great. That’s really great."

We went out together Saturday night. As friends. Before we met up with some other people, he and I were having a drink and hanging around. Nearby, somebody turned and made a comment about our banter, saying we should go tour. We laughed, smiled at each other, and went to go find our friends. The evening was fabulous.

Sunday, we had dinner together. Conversation was easy and afterwards he walked me to the library in the most unassuming way possible.

Hurray. Chapter closed.

Dying.

Just dying.

Oh, lolkinks, you slay me.

Like a Brisket, Part Eleven

From my spot on the floor, I couldn’t really see what was going on with The Prodigy and Craftsmate. I know Penthouse was partially talking her through some of the basics, but she was mostly doing the “tying like a brisket” herself.

Eventually, and while I was partially sub-spaced (which I’ll describe in detail in the next post, swearsies), I suddenly heard Penthouse exclaim how amazing that was. I looked up and saw some pretty impressive rope-work, especially considering that this was The Prodigy’s first time tying someone up.

“Oh man,” Craftsmate exclaimed, looking over his shoulder at the ropes, “this is like…this is the before picture. And damn. This is the before picture.”

Photo from here.

After the date from hell, I met up with a few friends to have a very necessary kiki.

We got an awesome dinner, had some drinks, and wound up laughing and gossiping in no time. I told them about my horrible date and we spent the evening joking about all the awful people we’d gone out with.

What started as the picture above quickly turned into this: