Try as she may, she simply could not recreate the fun she had at Camp Climax. Oh, how she missed it so. He was kind enough to try to help her, but she was kind enough not to tell him that she knew exactly what was missing.
kiss
“You were the one. You were the only one. And you were amazing.”
This movie gets me from zero to bawling in no time at all. I don’t care if the editing is awful. I don’t care if the interspersed interviews are cheesy (the movie could so do without them). Call me corny, but I’ll stand by Gia and defend it to the bitter end.
Such a great movie
Such great tits
Dear Followers,
I seem to have picked up quite a few of you lately. Welcome aboard. I haven’t gotten around to saying hello to all of you because I’m still working abroad, but this lack of communication could be broken.
I’m currently lounging around, waiting for the call to go get drinks with my coworkers. I’d like to get to know you in the meantime. Drop me an ask and say hi. Tell me something about yourself. Tell me something about your day. Tell me something.
So, followers old and new, keep me amused. (No, it doesn’t need to be under the sex or violence category. The whatever works well enough for me). Don’t be shy.
<3, Ivy
Is that true? Because the tiny romantic that lives at the bottom of my sexuality just squealed if it is.
They didn’t know each other.
“Dear Diary: Heather told me she teaches people "real life.” She said, real life sucks losers dry. You want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly. I said, so, you teach people how to spread their wings and fly? She said, yes. I said, you’re beautiful.“ From the film Heathers.
You’ve made me proud, New York.
“Tell me your secret
What you desire
I will still be there for you
And tell me you need it
Tell me something you’re not
I will still be there for you.”
“They were happy and radiantly innocent. They were both incapable of the conception that love is sin.” – Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged.
I love when someone can sum up a universal feeling in a clever kind of figurative way.
She wanted some discipline.
One person to tell her no.
Until she said yes.
To everything.
One of my very good friends is a photographer and occasionally he asks me to help him work in the darkroom, mostly just mixing chemicals and such. I remember the first time I went down there with him to develop some shots he’d taken of a guy he was seeing at the time (the entire idea of him taking these pictures post-coitus is just so erotic in and of itself). We closed the door, set up, and then he flipped the switch.
I can’t really explain how I felt beyond the fact that I was overwhelmed by the way everything looked. There was something so crisp and yet so raw about it. We were this bare, grainy matter and our motions seemed gorgeously fluid in this light. I really am not giving the way everything looked justice at all. It was like another state of matter entirely. I decided right then and there that I would one day have to do something absolutely filthy in a darkroom.
And then I saw the darkroom scene in Vicky Cristina Barcelona with my girl Penelope and I was sold. This just needs to happen.