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bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls:

Under Construction

Anything could happen, between the two of us. Everything. Nothing. It’s hard to say, and day-to-day. But whatever becomes of us, I want you to go on.

I want you to ache for me throughout a long, long life. I want you to write old-fashioned, pressed-flower-filled letters to me after I’m dead and you still have so many years left. I want you stable enough to land a nice man who will give you a nice son who you’ll give my name, just so you’ll have an excuse to say it every day. You’re one of the vessels I’ve chosen to carry my memory, and I expect you to withstand the test of time.

So what are the pillars upon which you are built? As I break things inside, and remodel you to suit me, which supports are holding you upright? We both know you’d let me wreck them if I wanted, but I don’t… I want to work around them, or perhaps modify them in a pinch. In short, I want the structure to stand even if the architect moves on.

Show me how not to destroy you. So that if I do, it’ll be on purpose.

This was an email I sent Glowbug in February 2018, which marked the unofficial resurrection of this blog— and me.

I need to remind her about the name thing.

bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls: domestic–doll: bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls: Someone pointed out to me earlier today that 2002 was sixteen…

bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls: domestic–doll: bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls: Someone pointed out to me earlier today that 2002 was sixteen…

bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls:

domestic–doll:

bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls:

Someone pointed out to me earlier today that 2002 was sixteen years ago, and most of you were innocent babies back then, so you don’t even know this song exists.

And talk about a fucking artifact from a time-gone-by…! Custom’s “Hey Mister” is peak perv-rock, up there with some of the greats from previous generations. (A hidden gem from the ‘80s: Deep Purple’s “Mitzi Dupree”, about meeting a chatty sex worker on a plane.) I doubt “Hey Mister” would be released at all today, but even a year after its release, it was still as omnipresent as “In Da Club” during Spring Break 2003.

As for the video? Sure, it’s cheap as hell, but that only makes it creepier, and the body writing just takes it to the next level.

Hey Mister I really like your daughter.
When I’m horny like thirsty
She’s a bottle of water.

Hey Mister how’d it get so bad
You raised her so well
And now she’s calling me dad
In the back seat naked of a new Volkswagen
The perfect little gift for high school graduation.

I just had this thought of me and a whole bunch of girls sitting on the floor around a comfy chair listening with big eyes while @bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls tells us stories about the past 👧🏻 that song is kinda creepy but hot!

That’s the goal, you know.

I chose not to have kids, but there’s no reason I can’t have a houseful of daughters.

It took a pandemic, a broken hand, and livestreaming to make it a reality, but now this happens three nights a week.

Lucky bitches.

To this day, Knights of the Sky (1991) is the only flight simulation I’ve ever enjoyed. And “enjoyed” is an understatement… my friend and I played it obsessively, for hours on end. I dragged my Amiga 500 and a 13 inch TV from my house to his a couple times a week, just to blow up German convoys and hunt aces.

Oh, and the zeppelins! 

I played Leander (1991) via a giveaway coverdisk from either Amiga Power or Amiga Format magazines, but only when I was at my friend’s house. That’s because the developer locked the game to the UK’s PAL resolution and scan rate, which wouldn’t work with my NTSC TVs. But through sheer luck, my friend stumbled across a Japanese-made, off-brand NTSC TV that would seamlessly transition to PAL when fed a signal.

Unfortunately, the excitement of “Woo-hoo, I can finally play this!” rapidly transitioned to “Oh, I’m finally playing this” once I realized it sucked. Like many Amiga games of the era, it felt more like a tech demo than a game… it was pretty to look at, but the player character controlled like a brick with feet.

(I’m giving you some side-eye, Shadow of the Beast.)