hotoldrguy
Day late Dollar Shy
- Joined
- Oct 14, 2015
- Posts
- 53,327
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Sounds like a trip I'd take.It's been pointed out to me that I haven't said much (in public or private) about my recent travels around Morocco. So here it is.
Three weeks ago, I flew out to Casablanca for a two-week adventure. I was really apprehensive, not because of the country (though I'd not visited a conservative Muslim country before and was aware of certain things to be respectful), but because I was still working on recovering from burnout. I was worried that I'd fuck up something by my brain not functioning and losing my passport etc etc.
I'd landed after midnight on the Friday, and was up and at 'em first thing on Saturday with a cultural tour of Casablanca, from the history, the religions, the food, the language, and the architecture.
Over the next few days I visited Rabat, Meknes, Volubilis, Chefchaouen, Fes, and Midelt. I bought some local art, pottery, and clothing.
I then hit the Sahara Desert where I learned that camels and I do not go together well. I nearly fell off. Twice. And I'm forever grateful that there is no video or photo proof. That night, I camped out and listened to some locals playing music on drums.
I then travelled up into the Atlas Mountains for a few days, got some henna tattoos on my hands, and went hiking. On the way out, stopped at Ait Benhaddou which is along the road from Atlas Studios and locations for films like Gladiator and Time Bandits.
I ended up in Marrakech for a couple of days from where I flew home. But before I came home, I took a hot air balloon ride.
The entire trip was an incredible experience and I learned so much, met new friends, and most importantly - it was an absolute tonic for helping me feel like myself again. I cannot begin to explain how this fed my soul.
I've been home for a week and still being sulky that I have to do normal life shit.![]()
- it was an absolute tonic for helping me feel like myself again. I cannot begin to explain how this fed my soul.

It's been a long time since I've seen your name around here, or have I just not been online when you have?Yay! Tallulah's back!![]()

I was gone for awhile myself. The doctor is trying to give me some bad news, but I'll outlive that bastard!It's been a long time since I've seen your name around here, or have I just not been online when you have?
I hope you've been keeping well![]()
Fuck yeah!I was gone for awhile myself. The doctor is trying to give me some bad news, but I'll outlive that bastard!![]()

I'm jealous. I've never even seen her front! Story of my lifeYay! Tallulah's back!![]()
Picture books?Thursday thoughts:
If you know me well enough, you know that writing stories is really important to me.
My earliest memories of loving stories goes back to growing my collection of Enid Blyton books from age 5. By aged 8-9, I had many (I'm thinking fifty-ish). I had created my own library in my bedroom, including creating a borrowing system that no-one used because I trusted no-one to treat them with proper respect, haha.
The first stories I began writing were in my teens. I began a novel, which I even got my history teacher to edit some! I never finished it but it's still there, handwritten filled file. Maybe one day I'll return to it with grown-up eyes and ideas.
I loved English classes, except for Poetry because it goes over my head. It still does. I have great respect for poets and those who can read and enjoy them.
When I was around 14 years old, I had an awful, awful English teacher who look a great dislike to me for reasons beyond my understanding. And as difficult to believe, I was the quiet student who tried her best. It was never good enough. Then one day, she set us an assignment to write a fictional story with a given opening line. I can't remember what it was (though I'm pretty sure I have it in storage somewhere still). At this point, I figured I had nothing to lose and I threw myself into this task. I wrote a ghost story, with elements of horror.
In my reading at this point, I was hooked on the gothic horror of Virginia Andrews, but I hadn't yet discovered Stephen King, Dean Koontz or James Herbert, or John Saul.
I submitted this story and expected it to fail (not actually fail, but lower marks than I'd become used to from her). She never actually verbalised her like of it or anything, but this story scored me the highest marks. And it was here I learned a valuable lesson: to not write trying to impress. I write for my own personal pleasure and with a 'fuck you' attitude, when necessary.
I still have every short story I wrote, my teenage ones on paper (either hand written or typed up on a typewriter) and then the rest on USB/hard drive.
When I joined Lit, I made it a goal of mine to attempt some erotica - just for kicks as a personal challenge. And some of my closest friends on here have been borne from a mutual love of writing (porn or not).
It's been quite a while since I completed anything for here. I have many ideas (noted and filed on my laptop, in a super organised way, naturally) but I do try to focus my writing time on non-erotica projects. But maybe I should indulge just a little again.
Actually, that's not entirely true. I did write a Christmas love story but I kind of missed the season, so that's waiting for later.
But writing is in my bones. It's a huge part of who I am and I literally get wistful for writing when life has overtaken too much. So yeah, maybe it's time to dust off the quivering thighs and smouldering looks again.
There is nothing damp in my underwear drawer!Damp...I mean...Damn Souls.
Picture books?
*desperately hoping the answer is yes*
I never knew your last name
Well, that’s not a hard problem to fix.There is nothing damp in my underwear drawer!
Ha! Ok, you probably meant to sound all wink-wink but my first response is "ewww, no, if my old-age incontinence means my knickers are damp then they're absolutely going in the washing machine, not the drawer."Well, that’s not a hard problem to fix.
Shameless flirtHa! Ok, you probably meant to sound all wink-wink but my first response is "ewww, no, if my old-age incontinence means my knickers are damp then they're absolutely going in the washing machine, not the drawer."
Old woman pee smell. Rawr.