all I did was go get ice cream. I’m seven pages down and all I see is thenameislahey on my dash.
uh. Hi, Greg? Welcome back?
Monthly Archives: June 2014
tzun:
For the wife.
I needed kilts on my dash and did not know it.
Sorrynotsorry. It’s totally for the kilts. Totally…
holy god
I’m a fan of kilts.
WHO ARE YOU MEN IN YOUR KILTS?!
They had to ban a thing like this from the main area of Dragoncon because it gets a little too naughty.
Pffft, no, they banned it because it was turning into sexual harassment. It’s just as harassing to flip up a kilt-wearer’s skirt as it is to flip up anyone else’s skirt, regardless of the tool you use to do it with.
“Dog toes are noisy, that’s the problem. Non-retractable. Plus I think she’s afraid she’ll get stepped on if she doesn’t make herself known. Bit like someone else I know.” Unsubtly, she poked him in the side.
“Well I am sprawled out on the floor,” Tony said, purposely missing the point. “So getting stepped on could happen. I mean, just look at this, someone fell over on top of me.” He prodded her in the ribs.
That did it. She sat up a little bit, just enough to go looking for the ticklish spots. “Can’t help it,” she shot back, in between return prodding. “You lie like a rug.”
Summer objected, “They do not /lurk/ any more than your otter lurks. I strongly suspect there’s a cat pile somewhere in the sunlight. But I’m not getting up to find it. Ask Jarvis.”
“I never said the otter doesn’t lurk,” Tony replied, “but there’s only one of him, so he can’t lurk as much.” A beat. “Well, okay, maybe he can. Never know with him. No lurking for Sassy, though. She’s kinda hopeless.”
“Dog toes are noisy, that’s the problem. Non-retractable. Plus I think she’s afraid she’ll get stepped on if she doesn’t make herself known. Bit like someone else I know.” Unsubtly, she poked him in the side.
Muse A [ my character ] is a high class escort working for one of the biggest companies in New York City. Muse B [ your muse ] is a wealthy man in his late twenties, known for his party life style. For his birthday, his friends organize a wild night with muse A. What simply starts out as a paid hook-up, they start to become more frequent, and Muse B becomes a regular. [ the rest can be plotted out, whether we want one falling for the other etc ]
“Raised by,” she replied, laughing a little. “Don’t say that around Loki, he might turn me into one, and there are enough around here.” She doodled nonsensical designs on his stomach with one hand.
“S’pose that explains a few things. Speaking of,” he lifted his head to glance around, “where are the fluffy bastards? There’s usually at least one around every corner. Lurking.”
Summer objected, “They do not /lurk/ any more than your otter lurks. I strongly suspect there’s a cat pile somewhere in the sunlight. But I’m not getting up to find it. Ask Jarvis.”
I can’t decide if being ‘miss’d by the waiter is flattering or annoying.
“I don’t know about America, but in Australia, if you are next to a really good looking girl, you’re not getting out with boxer shorts on or briefs, or anything!”