Welcome to the Stink Train!

I’ve almost made it. I can see the rippling ribbon of the finish line. I think there’s some cookies on the other side, but I have to get closer to be sure.

I’m feeling mighty weird this week.

I’m gonna blame it on the new year.

Also, the train station smelled like stinky broccoli. brocoli? whatever…

it just STANK. Like, sometimes it doesn’t stink, but sometimes, when it’s cooked a certain way, it DOES.

and the smell of the stinch was in the air.

I almost thought it was certain people who just stank. Maybe they had it the night before.

Or maybe it was ME!

But I smell like cocoa butter and vanilla cream! I checked.

I’d like to eat myself. With a dab of hot fudge.

boy oh boy, lets transition to my state of mind.

(the next section in red will be sex talk. skip if you desire! There’s other stuff after…)

HORNY.

Oh em geee.

I was delighting in myself all night last night.

FOUR TIMES.

delightful.

I really wanna be knock down drag out fucked till i cry.

It probably won’t happen, but it’s a dream all the same.

Baboo is coming over tonight. I do want to do things to him. I always envision how I’ll take him down and bend him to my will.

But there is a really bad habit in my head that stops me.

FEAR.

of his rejection or his distraction or some other such nonsense.

I’m not used to it.

the other boys I’ve dominated have sought me out specifically for that skill. for my ability to wrap them around my finger and make them beg for my sweetness.

not so with Baboo. He gets it when he wants it. And he’s moody and might not feel like playing. I fear asking because that takes away the spark of it. I fear just going for it because if he is not willing, I look like an ass or a weirdo… or i’m gross.

One time I got out of the shower and I wanted to turn him on, I wanted him to rub lotion on my body, around my round healthy ass. He turned up his lip and said "ew"… and pushed me away because obviously rubbing lotion on me was not very sexy to him.

this bothered me more than I let on and so I’ve never attempted it again. Or anything like it.

so began my downward spiral of questioning just how sexy I might be and just how much power I hold in his world.

Anyone can have a willing vagina.

but not everyone can have the skills to fill in the empty space around it.

*sigh*

ANYWAY, this isn’t a bash baboo session. It’s simply a moment for me to reflect on something I really want right now.

I want to hold him down and make him my bitch.

and then I want him to flip me over and make me HIS.

whatever.

blah blah blah.

Meanwhile, I am still in a weird smitten kitten mode.

DAMN OVULES!

I would probably just be happy to snuggle up to him and smell him.

He used to let me do that to my hearts content.

but the last time he kept saying "ok!" like he’d had enough of me being buried in him and he couldn’t quite see the tv.

I’m not ready for that "old couple" feel.

We don’t even live together.

We should, but he would probably kill himself.

whatever.

I’m not in the mood for this downward turn of my entry!

It’s Thursday! I plan on trying to work my butt off!

I’m making pork chops and potatoes (or rice, whatever I feel like when I get home) and veggies for dinner. I plan on trying to NOT forget to upload my pics so I can finally post an entry about the rest of my most fabulous San Fran trip.

I just got distracted and I’m good.

this is NOT a bash baboo session.

I vent my frustrations. and so i must do something about him.

i adore him. He’s what I want right now. It’ll all work out in the end.

I’m gonna be doing apartment searches every day until the end of the month. I really need to find a new place.

Stupid Evil Roommate (SER from now on) was in rare form last night.

I came hoome to the front door OPEN and the heater ON. (There is a screen)

WHO DOES THAT? (he was the only one home… and it also stank. he was probably trying to air out his own putridity, but still, don’t turn on the HEATER too you idiot!)

I go into the kitchen, the trash is OVERFLOWING with his trash, meat packaging. I guess he went shopping. I did not make my son empty that trash. We had about 2 things in it. IF YOU FILL THE FUCKING TRASH, THEN EMPTY THE FUCKING TRASH!!!!!

dinner was left overs and frozen pizza. I threw the trash from that directly into the trash bin outside. I will not be emptying that mans garbage. I refuse!

Around 9:30… he came out and began to cook and stink up the house. I know he had already cooked previous because there were dishes I didn’t use in the strainer. I hate that he uses my pots and pans. I hope I have money to just get a new set when I move! Anyway, he starts cooking AGAIN and it stinks like STINK all through the house. and he’s pacing (or so it seems) back and forth to his room.

And he’s taken to locking his door whenever he leaves, even if it’s just to go to the kitchen or the bathroom. I hear him jingle the keys and unlock it EVERY TIME. so what, now I’m gonna go sneak into his stinky pit of a stink room and go through his things in the 30 seconds he is out of it? What a douche.

I can’t live like this.

He’s milling around slamming pots and cooking and pacing and closing doors till almost midnight.

APPALLING.

He proceeds to wake up around 4:30 and starts back up!

WHO HAS THESE KINDS OF HABITS? IS HE MAD? DAFT? INSANE INTHE MEMBRANE?!

I believe so.

I can’t go on. I’m gonna go batshit crazy.

So apartment searches it will be. Until I find the ONE.

I’m sure it will jump out at me and be most awesome. It’ll have a nice move in deal and the management will instantly like me.

I really only want to apply to one or maybe two. The application fee is evil and my credit doesn’t need to be run a bunch of times. It already sucks.

so anyway, that’s the plan stan.

my ovules hurt.

it’s giving me cramps.

it’s annoying.

*pokes ovules*

Anyway, this entry has carried on long enough. I must go look like I’m working when really all I’ll be doing is writing emails this morning.

If I have your addy, you might get one!

but then again, you might not.

Gmail has taken to hiding emails from me. Its frustrating. Stop trying to THINK FOR ME GMAIL! SO WHAT IF I ONLY WROTE THEM ONCE! PUT THEM IN MY CONTACTS LIST!

if you have gmail, you might know what i mean.

ANYWAY.

didn’t i say i was going?

i was.

watch me! *floss*