clarification: I am not a MTF transsexual
I am not planning on having this done: I loved their movie characters, but I do not aspire to be one: And despite a certain "Swiffering" incident in 2003... ...I have no designs on becoming:
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hnt
I'm only planning on doing this once. Yep, rouge certainly doesn't tan ! The picture, although not current, is still representative. It's from my trip to Provincetown in 2002. I aspire to the full-on Joey "naked Thursday" concept . As you can see, I've modeled my tits after his. Joey : Yeah, why don't you move in with me? It'll be great! We could stay up late, watch movies... and you know about Naked Thursdays, right? Rachel : Yeah... yeah I think I'm gonna find my own place. Chandler : Hey, hey! I thought Naked Thursday was just our thing, man!
Sex Talk with Phyllis Levy
The part of Canada I grew up in (mentioned in a post from February ) was pretty remote. Dealing with my sexuality in such a setting was awful in the 1980s, and I'm sure it's not much easier now. But in 1986 (when I was 16), I had a voice coming through my radio that gave me hope and made me feel slightly less alone. That voice belonged to Phyllis Levy , who hosted a show on WLS 890 out of Chicago called Sex Talk . I could receive WLS fairly reliably at night, despite the fact that Chicago was about 1050 km / 650 miles away (SSE, as the crow flies). It was AM radio, and I would keep it on low volume in my room. Phyllis Levy had the kindest voice, and a great sense of humour. I remember laughing when, discussing penile desensitization (from excessive friction), she exclaimed, "omigod, you guys! Be careful out there !" I would give anything to hear her voice again. I wasn't able to Google up much on her... so Phyllis, this one's for you.
Comments
There was a sound file to go with, but myfilehut is being shitty, and putfile is just retarded.
I never get space debris falling on my head.
Я желаю!
_______
There is no cause for alarm. Yes, I do daydream about getting taken out by a piece of random falling space junk, or--like in that episode of Six Feet Under--a chunk of airplane toilet ice. You know, something to end the drudgery of my daily life. (Typically, this type of thought pops in to my head when I'm on my way to work.) It doesn't mean I actually want it to happen. (That shit would hurt, yo.)
I'll have to work on my pictograph skillzzzzzzz. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to close my office door and have my morning cry. L8er.
I just realized that you aren't already on my Shit you should read list.
I'm going to fix that. Matter of fact you're going to replace the Martian Anthropologist (I never read that shit).