Tag: rocket-bro
I had this dream the other night where my crew was beating the snot out of a proud boy convention in park slope, and one of them was a boy I went to highschool with and he tried to give me shit for being slutty in highschool, and I stopped mid-beatdown and said “joke’s on you, fuckface, I am so much sluttier now,” and I am sad to report that awake me will never top that line as long as I goddamn live.
It’s feminist for me to fantasize about a beefy country boy to lift things for me and introduce me to his goats, because it turns me on and is therefore empowering!!! Fuck you!!!!!!!
Are there weird gender role issues here if he has a big appetite and I make a lot of food for him? NO, because I am also PEGGING HIM in this scenario!! I am the FARM DOMME
I’m going back in time to cancel this post because I’ve been told this is categorized as horny on main. Frankly I don’t see how it is horny to want someone in scuffed jeans blush while letting you pet their sheep but I’ve been overruled and I have a career to consider so [REDACTED]
Julia I’m reporting you
Julia I’m just worried about the goats
God okay you don’t understand, the goats initially are somewhat skittish but end up liking me right away, leading the farmboy to go “I’ve never seen them warm up to anyone so quickly before!” And we share a shy but tender glance as the sun sets, until a goat does something silly that makes us both break into laughter. The GOATS are ESSENTIAL in getting him to NUT IN ME
me immediately at the slightest somber emotion twinging in my heart: cancel my plans, cancel tomorrow’s plans, cancel the week, this is happening and one cannot be expected to function under these circumstances. are we beasts of burden or are we men? were we put on this earth to suffer and passively endure suffering? I say no. The earth rejoices with us in our joy and weeps with us in our sorrow. I owe it to something larger than myself to put my heart at peace
the gremlin of common sense that lives in my head and makes me put clean socks on and brush my teeth: dude.
me, fully swooned onto the fainting couch of my soul: May A Bitch Not Be Sad Now And Then
wherein the femme and rocket discuss alder
me: rocket you should’ve seen alder dancing at the nightclub we went to a few weeks ago
they got onstage
it was majestic
*_*
rocket: This level of overwhelming talent on every level is extremely offensive.
me: and they play an instrument too
rocket: I think we’re in agreement that we’re gonna need Alder to staaaahhhhp.
me: how is that allowed?
IT IS NOT
IS THE ANSWER
IT IS NOT ALLOWED
oh excuse me hi i can install electrical things on your roof and also sing/dance right off the roof and into your fucking heart
while playing a trombone and casting a spell
and also did i mention that i wrote you gay fanfiction? while i was doing all that?
because i did
me: p.s. sorry that i cut you with my amazing jawline and cheekbones, my bad
rocket: that was a great impression of alder, good job
me: ahaha we all have our talents, clearly
WAIT I AM NOT EVEN DONE
THERE IS MORE
ARE YOU SAD?
ARE YOU HAVING SOME OVERWHELMING FEELINGS?
rocket: ahaha
me: HOLD UP I’M GONNA CREATE A FUCKING IMMERSIVE CHOOSE YR OWN ADVENTURE STORY
TAILORED TO YOUR NEEDS AND LIFE
AND CALM THE SHIT OUT OF YOU
ARE YOU HUNGRY?
I AM GONNA MAKE YOU SOME BOMB-ASS VEGAN TREATS
FEED YOU ALL NIGHT LONG
rocket: 🔥
What are we supposed to do, femme?
me: Die
I don’t even know
flail
is my usual?
i think?
scream into the void?
rocket: Personally I spend most of my time flailing about how rad they are.
Like probably 73% of my time.
me: yeah those numbers sound accurate
i could probably make a graph
wait no
i actually
did
make a graph
STENCILLED BLACK SILK GAUZE TUNIC, 1920’s.
Probably Gallenga, square cut wrap with silver Renaissance style trees and stylized creatures, black Venetian glass beads along hem, knotted cord closure with glass bead tassels.
me: *makes my wife homemade bread for breakfast and serves it to her on the plate i spun in pottery class last week topped with fresh strawberry jam i just made from the strawberries i grew in our garden*
Quiet Friday night in.
alder-knight 