Gibberings
Dad told me never to use XTREE when he wasn’t in the room.
November 21, 2008 ~ 01:52:45 PM * -08:00ST
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Log # 38
Splode
Spent the star-spangled evening in the good company of the flock of feral fetish models I have befriended via fashion shows.
Parties hosted by fetish models are exactly what your perverted brain is imagining: lots of good-looking girls in tight clothing playing kissing games and striking each other about the thighs and shapely buttocks.
You know that scene in Animal House where Bluto clambers up the side of a sorority house to observe a barechested pillowfight between nubile members of the blonde brigade? Of course you do.
It’s just like that, but with more eyeliner.
The only difference between your fantasy wonderland and my vinyl-slick reality, is that the girls all bring their men. These fellows act as enthusiastic but slightly withdrawn audience members, rarely deigning to become involved even when asked, nay, ordered.
And I am always the third party, observing in a smirky sort of way and cracking wise. Sketching, sometimes.
But the point is that my eyebrows look fantastically weird tonight. Cartoonish. Very much like my Toovibohnes pic.
by
Eliza Gauger on July 5th, 2006 ~ 05:51:12 AM
Slotted into Fetish Models |
3 Comments »
Comment by Warren Ellis on
July 5, 2006 at 6:50 am
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You have the eyebrows of a young Sherilyn Fenn tonight.
Comment by Jean-Paul on
July 5, 2006 at 12:08 pm
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From what I’ve seen, most men don’t know what to do when one of their fantasies all of a sudden plays out in front of them. Especially if they didn’t start things off. I, on the other hand, seem to have misplaced my inhabition gene in the wash somewhere.
Comment by The Commissar on
October 11, 2006 at 5:11 pm
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hawt
inhibition =/= intuition
i say again, hawt
