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The Isolated Blurt BDSM Thread

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Sir_Winston54 said:
First of all, it's *not* trifling that the SOB stole a 350! Second, that the 350 was intended for your 'Bird is downright criminal!

And no, you're not a stereotype, darlin' - you're an archetype. :kiss:
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Thank you, dear. This is why I :heart: you. :kiss::rose:
 
grumble grumble grumble. I need another weekend!

can't wait to take the train to Sapporo this weekend though, that will be fun.

Sapporo will freeze my nips off though, I think.
 
Etoile said:
grumble grumble grumble. I need another weekend!

can't wait to take the train to Sapporo this weekend though, that will be fun.

Sapporo will freeze my nips off though, I think.
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This just makes me think you're going to be taking a train to a cold beer which clearly serves no purpose other than to make me immensely jealous.
 
bhndblueyes88 said:
This just makes me think you're going to be taking a train to a cold beer which clearly serves no purpose other than to make me immensely jealous.
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The town, as you might expect, is where the beer originated! And I plan to drink some while there! :D
 
I like to check out the Lit New Submissions section from time to time, usually with my phone. Which leads me to a couple of blurts:

When I queue up a story on my phone, I see about three paragraphs at first. If your story has so many spelling and/or grammatical errors in three paragraphs that I can't bear the thought of trying to decode the rest of your story, I'm outta there so quickly the server might not have picked up my visit yet.

Men in my generation, which is to say the generation meant by "Mature" in the story categories, do not use the word "icky" unless they're quoting someone half their age. For the love of all that is literate, please write what you know.

If your story sounds like you transcribed the dialog at your summer camp game of hit-the-biscuit, you lose me quickly. How quickly? See above.
 
midwestyankee said:
If your story has so many spelling and/or grammatical errors in three paragraphs that I can't bear the thought of trying to decode the rest of your story, I'm outta there so quickly the server might not have picked up my visit yet.
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Ditto

If your story sounds like you transcribed the dialog at your summer camp game of hit-the-biscuit, you lose me quickly. How quickly? See above.
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Runs off to Google "hit the biscuit"
 
cfuhrer said:
Ditto



Runs off to Google "hit the biscuit"
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Google won't help you. I just tried and it did not come up with the meaning I had in mind. Therefore, let me remove your misery. Back when I was a lad of indeterminate adolescent years, it was rumored that some young men would occasionally hold a competition in which a biscuit or other small object was placed on a floor in a room and the competitors then endeavored to be the first one to hit the biscuit with his spunk, as projected from its usual source.
 
midwestyankee said:
Google won't help you. I just tried and it did not come up with the meaning I had in mind. Therefore, let me remove your misery. Back when I was a lad of indeterminate adolescent years, it was rumored that some young men would occasionally hold a competition in which a biscuit or other small object was placed on a floor in a room and the competitors then endeavored to be the first one to hit the biscuit with his spunk, as projected from its usual source.
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Ewww!

I liked Google's interp better. :rolleyes:
 
This morning I listened to the strangest account of a stroke that I think ever-- "oh yeah, about a year and a half ago, i didn't tell you?"

It happened while she was driving to a gig-- she's a photographer. She was able to pull to the side of the road, got out of the car and fell to the sidewalk. She went to the light, and then decided-- "fuck no, I am NOT going down in this shitty neighborhood" and hauled herself back into her body.

She got back in her car and drove to the gig because she knew she would need the money if the stroke laid her up for any length of time.

She completed the job.

She drove herself home, called a friend to come take her to ER. One MRI later and they were prepping her for brain surgery. They gave her a 50/50 chance. She recovered, with some weakness and chronic pain, on the left side of her body.

She told me this unbelievable story, and then said-- Oh, I have a present for you-- and handed me the cash (not thousands, just a couple hundred) I needed to replace my dead macbook.

I picked up the macbook off of craigslist. The kid I bought it from, I think-- though my radar isn't as good on this as you might expect-- that he was trans. He sure as hell pinged me for queer -- he just kept grinning wider and wider as we approached each other, and I had to remind him to take the money already. And kewt! Like a little bitty Orlando Bloom.

Although it's also not a brand new machine, it is faster and runs cooler than the old one did.

This evening, I got email from a dear dear friend from my Chicago days-- her husband, equally dear, had a stroke Saturday night.

I dunno. Some days just sort of... wear your jaw hinge out, yanno?
 
Stella_Omega said:
This morning I listened to the strangest account of a stroke that I think ever-- "oh yeah, about a year and a half ago, i didn't tell you?"

It happened while she was driving to a gig-- she's a photographer. She was able to pull to the side of the road, got out of the car and fell to the sidewalk. She went to the light, and then decided-- "fuck no, I am NOT going down in this shitty neighborhood" and hauled herself back into her body.

She got back in her car and drove to the gig because she knew she would need the money if the stroke laid her up for any length of time.

She completed the job.

She drove herself home, called a friend to come take her to ER. One MRI later and they were prepping her for brain surgery. They gave her a 50/50 chance. She recovered, with some weakness and chronic pain, on the left side of her body.

She told me this unbelievable story, and then said-- Oh, I have a present for you-- and handed me the cash (not thousands, just a couple hundred) I needed to replace my dead macbook.

I picked up the macbook off of craigslist. The kid I bought it from, I think-- though my radar isn't as good on this as you might expect-- that he was trans. He sure as hell pinged me for queer -- he just kept grinning wider and wider as we approached each other, and I had to remind him to take the money already. And kewt! Like a little bitty Orlando Bloom.

Although it's also not a brand new machine, it is faster and runs cooler than the old one did.

This evening, I got email from a dear dear friend from my Chicago days-- her husband, equally dear, had a stroke Saturday night.

I dunno. Some days just sort of... wear your jaw hinge out, yanno?
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Wow. that is a story!
 
midwestyankee said:
Google won't help you. I just tried and it did not come up with the meaning I had in mind. Therefore, let me remove your misery. Back when I was a lad of indeterminate adolescent years, it was rumored that some young men would occasionally hold a competition in which a biscuit or other small object was placed on a floor in a room and the competitors then endeavored to be the first one to hit the biscuit with his spunk, as projected from its usual source.
Click to expand...

Around here it was called cookie. A bunch of guys sitting around a cookie and the last guy to "frost" the cookie had to eat it.

Happily, I've never been a participant nor seen it take place. I think it was more of an urban legend of sorts.
 
Daddy2mylilgirl said:
Around here it was called cookie. A bunch of guys sitting around a cookie and the last guy to "frost" the cookie had to eat it.

Happily, I've never been a participant nor seen it take place. I think it was more of an urban legend of sorts.
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Some guys would say "unhappily."

Just saying.
 
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midwestyankee said:
Google won't help you.
Click to expand...

I tried Urban Dictionary - not much help.
...and EWWWW squared!

Stella_Omega said:
This morning I listened to the strangest account of a stroke that I think ever
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Holy moley! What a strange day, Stella! Things that make ya' go hmmmmm...

Daddy2mylilgirl said:
Around here it was called cookie. A bunch of guys sitting around a cookie and the last guy to "frost" the cookie had to eat it.

Happily, I've never been a participant nor seen it take place. I think it was more of an urban legend of sorts.
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I'm hoping for urban legend! See above...
:rolleyes:
 
Daddy2mylilgirl said:
Around here it was called cookie. A bunch of guys sitting around a cookie and the last guy to "frost" the cookie had to eat it.

Happily, I've never been a participant nor seen it take place. I think it was more of an urban legend of sorts.
Click to expand...

Not to mention, a clear and humiliating wheatless diet violation.
 
I want you people to know that you have simultaneously made me dry heave and given me ideas for client blogs and assignments. I don't know whether to yell at y'all or thank you. :mad::confused:
 
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