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Tihmmnmmish's Cuddle-Friendly Fireside Threadcast

:heart:Well, I couldn't be sure what you knew I was thinking because it may be something that I'm not thinking on the surface so I could not say it wasn't true. I guess I was worried that if you suspected I was thinking something bad you could gain all sorts of favors for yourself if I begged you not to reveal my thoughts to who knows who. :heart: there is still chocolate on my chin from yesterday after all... :kiss:
 
You go too deep my friend all you had to say was 'what'? and I would have answered that you were thinking 'she'll never guess what I am thinking'
 
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don't we all go too deep at the strangest moments? almost like we don't see that broad, clear & empty street with constant green lights so take, instead, the winding, potholed, pedestrian-filled busy road with all of the red lights, flashing yellows and detour signs...

kind of more fun to go deep but oh-so-very frustrating too........
 
another stumble
I intended to rewind time
Annie said all I had to say was What
so to try and redo history (always a mistake)
I simply tried to do what she told me.

why is it that red lights on streets mean to stop
but red light districts mean something completely different?

Note this is a friday 13 week
 
New Idea

Pretty sure this is The One.

But to do it on the internet?

It will crash and bomb and incite mass mayhem.

But the Idea doesn't care. It wants.
 
I am bloody fuminggggggggg just got kicked out of an American chatroom some people got no sense of humour that's for sure
 
bluebell7 said:
Americans? Or key lime pies? Because I do not need key lime pies. That's just me, though.
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If I recall, the historical context of the 'who needs 'em' blurt pertained to the Americans by whom Annie was ill-treated.

I am ambivalent in the key lime pie context. It wouldn't top the list of desserts I would think to order but, you know, if I was offered a slice, sure, I'd eat it.

You've apparently had bad experiences with key lime pie. If you'd like to talk about it...
 
bluebell7 said:
Americans? Or key lime pies? Because I do not need key lime pies. That's just me, though.
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You one of them "Key Lime Pie" haters? *squints*

I'll have you know that Key lime Pie is American as Mom, the Flag and...

No wait...

that's Apple Pie...


never kind.


There once was a chick named Bluebs, says I
who would freely show off boobs and thigh
no other looks were in store
if you asked to see more
specially if you wanted to see her Key Lime Pie.
 
Hey I got a hmmnmm question, so this seems like the place to ask it. In a review the other day of a Bflag poem you said:

"Really, editorially and honestly speaking, for the erotic stuff I do favor those written by chicks (or those I can believe are chicks). But I almost didn't back out of this one fast enough. Got that strange voyeur feeling for sure."

I was just curious why you can't really get into a dude's poem? Since an erotic poem from a man's point of view is focused on a woman and her body and its description. I just wondered if you could give me some sort of explanation of how you place yourself within a poem you read. I usually take the position of the one doing the writing, so it's the female's poems about being pressed into the bed and being sweated on that I'm sort of skittish around.
 
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Epmd607 said:
Hey I got a hmmnmm question, so this seems like the place to ask it. In a review the other day of a Bflag poem you said:

"Really, editorially and honestly speaking, for the erotic stuff I do favor those written by chicks (or those I can believe are chicks). But I almost didn't back out of this one fast enough. Got that strange voyeur feeling for sure."

I was just curious why you can't really read a dude's poem? Since an erotic poem from a man's point of view is focused on a woman and her body and its description. I just wondered if you could give me some sort of explanation of how you place yourself within a poem you read. I usually take the position of the one doing the writing, so it's the female's poems about being pressed into the bed and being sweated on that I'm sort of skittish around.
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Wow. Very good question. Never really gave the Why too much thought. But I'll go think on it now. For starters I think I tend towards an observer? Rather than me going into them it's more me letting them show or tell or dance or sing? Don't know. Good question. I'll be thinking on it. Of course there's always plenty of exceptions...
 
and as an observer, I suppose it would be something like: if I read female poetry it's like she's granting me the privilege to watch her masturbate?
 
Of all the splendors and wonders of the universe, there are few I personally find more fascinating than the ability to create a natural lubricant from one's own body and to be able to painlessly/pleasurably insert objects of all shapes and sizes inside of said body... and that barely scratches the surfaces of Wows. That's a whole heaping lotsa awesome power that struts and slinks and wiggles around the world. So, to be able to catch a glimpse, to be given a chance to get even the vaguest inkling what that must be like...
 
making/creating/writing + solitary + enjoyment + exposure + beginning + middle + conclusion= self-pleasure/masturbation/libidinal motive= the universe
 
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