thinkivykink:

So, my birthday is coming up.

Just a thought.

I know I’m late to the party, but I can bring pizza so I think that should make up for it.

This girl. She knows the state of my heart.

Ivy’s Birthday Wishlist, Item #2

Hi. I don’t like the cold weather. Kindly get me to a beach.

Also, pizza.

confusedtree:

In French, you don’t really say “I ate the pizza”, you say “Je suis devenu la pizza”, which is closer to “I am the pizza” or “I became the pizza”. I love that so much. You don’t just eat something. You absorb it into your atoms for the greater good of the hive stomach. If you eat the pizza, it just eats you back. Stop. Touch the pizza. You are the same.

Oh my gosh I cannot stop laughing. Somebody hold me.

Penthouse eats pussy well because he eats pussy like he really wants to.

Pardon my choice of image, but I couldn’t resist.

But, honestly, he eats pussy like it’s freaking delicious or it’s like the eve of the great pussy famine or we’re living in a socialist society and he had to wait on line in the snow for freaking hours for a meager ration of pussy but it was goddamn worth it.

And I don’t say this to inflate the guy’s ego as much as to give some advice here. Guys, girls and everything in between: if you’re eating a pussy, eat it like you did the first slice of pizza you ever had.

No, don’t bite it or anything. But, put some enthusiasm behind it. Kid on Christmas all over that pussy.

I’m ashamed to admit I had an ex fall asleep “down there”. Which is just as detrimental to the self-esteem as it is to the orgasm brewing down there.

For god’s sake, it’s not a chore. Have a little fun with it.

This has been an attempted story that instead turned into a rant. Whatever. I regret nothing. Yolo, carpe diem and all that noise.

Like a Brisket, Part One

So, Craftsmate and I met up with his kinky friend from high school who now goes to a different Ivy than us just in time for lunch. I had found out that morning that the girl from Ivy University who was supposed to be joining us was going to be a few hours late and that fact made me a little anxious. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Craftsmate or his friend, but I figured it was a little awkward to sort of be sandwiched between two people who’ve read my blog with no neutral party.

“So, is pizza okay by you?” Craftsmate’s friend, who I’ll call Penthouse (and assure you all, on his behalf, that we all had a ton of trouble coming up with a nickname for and I promise it’s less urban elite than it sounds, really), asked.

I laughed. “Have you not read my blog?” I figured I should at least hit the awkward on the head early in the afternoon. Acknowledge the facts and move on. I had already dispelled most of the discomfort with Craftsmate through this method.

“Seriously,” Craftsmate chimed in, “she’s big on pizza.”

“I don’t read it as a food blog!” Penthouse exclaimed. "Besides, if it were a food blog, it would be about two foods.“

wolf189:

New editorial story in Gypsé Eyes Magazine by Wolf189 (@wolfphoto)

I appreciate people who still try hard to put together a well designed print magazine together.

. (cover shot is not mine)

about Wolf189 , Archive , FAQ , Most recent videos

So, this exists.

I’ve been recently informed that this video is a thing.

Pros: Her name is Ivy, she gets her clothing cut off, she is bent over a table and fucked, and she gets pizza at the end. I dig.

Cons: This guy doesn’t understand how to operate a pair of scissors and his own penis. That pizza was left out to get cold. Also, he just can’t aim to save his life.

I mean, whatever. A commendable effort.

Those who follow me, I’m sure, have picked up on the fact that I love pizza to an inordinate degree. But, I’m sorry, even I recognize that pizza is not a freaking vegetable. The fact that Congress can sit there and call pizza a vegetable is honestly such a disgusting display of cutting corners, pandering, and complete bullshit. This is a clear demonstration of the fact that Congress is clearly viewing the American population as numbers, dollar signs, statistics, and not people. So what if improving the requirements for school lunches might cost some more? These are children whose health you are placing in a precarious balance because you consider tomato paste to be a freaking vegetable.

Sorry, I’ll stop now.

Best priorities ever.

Dream life.

Currently sitting around in my panties and ravenously devouring a slice of pizza after a hot shower following a trip to the gym.

Good Lord I just can’t even. It’s just the simple things like this that make me happy as a pig in shit.