I had a good friend who did queer sex work. She was trans, Deaf, and from the south. The sex work seemed dangerous. The people who came to her for sex work, some could be violent for sure. I don’t know how she found her clients–this was several years ago. Where we lived before. content
I was in a bathroom, going pee, looking down at my underwear. They are probably my favorite–purple–and they have some holes. I suddenly realized: wow, these things are beat. Very used purple underwear. They’re faded in the part where a little pee gets on them, pee-bleached. I’m guessing it’s been ten years, I’ve been wearing
Did you ever have a rich friend who gave you money? This happened to me. I had a good friend who I fell in love with–she inherited a fortune out of the blue. We had a friendship for some years. She was brilliant, creative, beautiful–a small queer woman, fierce and challenging. We’re not friends anymore
My spouse read that last post about how I was hurt by a friend who we loved. “Do you ever see his news?” I asked. “No,” my spouse said. “Maybe would you look him up?” I asked. “I’m just curious if he’s alive.” “Ok, I can do that.” “Would you look up my ex-husband also?”
Here’s more about aesthetics because I figured out what I was trying to say last time! pretty “Do you think I’m pretty?” I asked my spouse. It was idle pre-bed chatter. “Yes,” he said. “Do you think I’m…hella pretty?” “Yes,” he said. “You seem to think I’m pretty…when I’m sucking your dick,” I said. “Yes,”
“Guess what this is?” I asked my spouse. My new vibrator arrived in the mail yesterday. It was wrapped in pink tissue paper. “Soap?” he asked. I guess the sacred bundle was that size. “No, but…it will make me clean!” I said. Not sure how that made sense. But he realized from my tone, it