of course you’re tall. tall guys are so hot. i’m 5’1″ so i really like the size difference. not sure why just do
I don’t consider myself “tall”. Tall people are 6’3”+… I’m just a full-grown man.
I’m tall enough to see over crowds, not tall enough to dunk. Tall enough to kiss the top of a tall girl’s head. Tall enough to reach the high shelf. Tall enough for people to generally leave me the fuck alone.
But I grew up around an uncle who was 6’6”, and I know what tall really looks like. It was instructive, too… I was always aware of how he loomed over me, existing at a a weirdly intrusive scale, yet the distance between me and him is less than the distance between me and the average woman. At some point, I figured out, “wow, I give dozens of women the same feeling every day, just walking through the world.”
Despite what the “all women are…” crowd says, girls aren’t the same. Daddy issues are well-known, get the spotlight and the headlines, and seem to cause the most obvious damage… yet they form in a multitude of ways and have multiple —sometimes contradictory— effects that few people using the term can comprehend. It’s never as simple or easily described as people would like it to be.
(The fun thing about human psychology is that our brains are so fucking occluded by self-perception that we can derive multiple, conflicting neuroses from a single event or observation. Yay, us! Go Team Broken!)
With girls and Mommy issues, it’s even murkier. So much mom-on-daughter emotional violence plays out glacially, on subterranean levels that only become apparent on a scale of years… what starts out as a lump in your throat that forms when mom yells at a stranger can metastasize into an all-consuming cancer that eats away at your personality until you’re more her than you.
In (very) general, though? Expectations of constant critique in the guise of support, grossly inappropriate competitiveness, absent or deformed homogenous boundaries… it goes on and on. In my observations, being judged and found deficient by your mom hits very different from the same dad-feels. It’s a special kind of tough, experiencing the gendered/sexualized disappointment of your dad, but it’s possibly even scarier when you’re getting the same vibe from mom and you realize the metaphorical call is coming from inside the house.
TL;DR: You don’t need a dick to fuck up a girl. Sometimes you just need to be the dick.
I dreamt we were going on a road trip around England. Due to my poor navigation, we ended up in London unintentionally. Luckily Kate Moss let us stay at her house. You were scary but kind.
A road trip around England does sound nice. Thanks to monitoring the movements of a certain Bug over the last five years, I know one major British city well enough to make my way around… but that’s about it.
I want to see Hadrian’s Wall, Newcastle-on-Tyne, Liverpool, Stratford-upon-Avon, and a whole lotta London, so ultimately, your incompetent navigation would have paid off.
As for Kate Moss… I hope the dream included a recreation of this video:
RE: scary but kind
I give good snuggle… assuming you know how to hug a porcupine.
Someone asks this question every time I reblog that post about kissing cunt. And it’s really hard to answer, because pussy just happens to be very pliable, subject to blood flow fluctuations, and lives in a difficult-to-light area of the body. What’s pretty from one angle or one position may be a Sarlacc pit from another.
So… fine. I’ve created a “Cunt” collection over on my blog, where I shall compile an evolving list of intrinsically kissable snatches. It’s not at all exhaustive or definitive, but it’ll have to do.
