“Asks” from my Tumblr followers
Y’know, I started to write something snarky and/or flirty, and realized I need to put that on hold for a second.
I don’t say this often enough: it’s nice to be adored, even by a grayfaced little ‘fraidy-cat.
Some people wait a lifetime to be told something like that, and I’d do well to appreciate all of you lovely little freaks while I have you.
(Especially the freakiest little lovely of them all. Y’know, the girl with the bows and the boobs. Yeah, that one.)
The only thing I want to do to a suicidal girl is give her a hug and a reason to stick around.
P.S. Eat a dick, fuckwit.
Pretty sure you should come off anon and tell me all about it.
Sometimes I slip. Sad stories are sad, and it can be easy to get caught up in them.
But no one who identifies as one of my broken girls is coming to me for sympathy. In their own fucked-up little ways, they just want someone to see them as they see themselves, to acknowledge their reality and even embrace it.
It’s hard enough in this world, feeling like a worthless cunt. It’s even harder when you realize it arouses you to feel that way. The last thing you want is a man’s pity… his pity only tells you that you’re not even good at being nothing.
If you’re feeling guilty and yet continuing to play with yourself, then I have achieved my mission. I can think of no more refined pleasure than making a woman I’ve never met complicit in her own degradation.
I’m glad you found me, too.
My guess is that “what you are” is still a lesbian feminist. Doing or feeling something contrary to your character doesn’t instantly negate that character. Maybe you’re just a hypocrite, like most of humanity.
Personally, I think hypocritical girls are hot.
This undoubtedly speaks volumes about me, but I’ve never had intimate knowledge of a Polly Pureheart. Even as a kid, I attracted the quietly freaky chicks, the ones with the smiling faces that hid all kinds of squirmy secrets. The authentic Good Girls and I just never seemed to cross paths.
And we’re all probably better off for it.
Someone who knows when she’s beaten.
No, you don’t. If you actually wanted any of that, you’d have messaged me directly.
All you really wanted was the tiny thrill of telling the truth about yourself to someone who accepts your truth, someone who isn’t going to judge you for being a sexual fuck-up.
Get back to me when you’re bored with tiny thrills.
mindless-little-pet-deactivated:
Your* you* I don’t understand why it is so hard to spell words out.
I’m a little unclear on the purpose of the capital D in dick, as well. Does he also kiss with his Lips, slap with his Hand, and fart with his Ass?
For that matter, why stop with nouns?
“Behold, wench, the Tumescent Grandeur of My Dick as I Shove It into your holes with Herculean Vigor.”
Yeah, that’s the good stuff…
