Bistro Bijou

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And more bleedover from the BDSM boards happens. Look out kids, the kinky people are taking over!

(Fortunately it has only been blindingly cool people like Shanks and Snowy. You're safe, as they're artsy, literate kinksters. And, wow, if we could but summon the beloved Cutiemouse back, oh my, she would be such an addition to our lovely establishment.)

:heart: the Snowy.

AAwwee.. Thank you. I might have scribbled a few poems too, but they tend to scare people so I don't usually post them. I lurk over in the AH too, sometimes.:rose:
 
AAwwee.. Thank you. I might have scribbled a few poems too, but they tend to scare people so I don't usually post them. I lurk over in the AH too, sometimes.:rose:

My writing sucks, so it is scary by default. Feel free to post. If any of the harpies are too nasty I'll pull out Mr. Wooden Ruler.

------

Sometime I can't believe I'm living in my house. This is definitely the way to go.

:kiss:

And I would definitely want to be a cat. I would make a HORRIBLE dog.
 
My writing sucks, so it is scary by default. Feel free to post. If any of the harpies are too nasty I'll pull out Mr. Wooden Ruler.

------



And I would definitely want to be a cat. I would make a HORRIBLE dog.

Lol. That's cuz you'd be toppy even in other incarnations. You are a very cool guy. I love dogs, adore them, but one thing they're not is cool. :D
 
Lol. That's cuz you'd be toppy even in other incarnations. You are a very cool guy. I love dogs, adore them, but one thing they're not is cool. :D

You are as insightful as you are talented, my dear Angeline.

Though, oddly enough, my beloved Kato is as submissive a cat as I have ever seen. He's just the sweetest little subby tom. viv's cat, Buttercup, is a toppy little bitch though. It took her five long, strife-filled years to finally accept that I was significantly larger, had thumbs, and a little bit more willpower than she did. She's still not even remotely submissive, but she no longer fights me when I decide she needs to move.

I respect that.
 
You are as insightful as you are talented, my dear Angeline.

Though, oddly enough, my beloved Kato is as submissive a cat as I have ever seen. He's just the sweetest little subby tom. viv's cat, Buttercup, is a toppy little bitch though. It took her five long, strife-filled years to finally accept that I was significantly larger, had thumbs, and a little bit more willpower than she did. She's still not even remotely submissive, but she no longer fights me when I decide she needs to move.

I respect that.

Thank you, Homie. You are very sweet. (Note to everyone: Yes, we really like each other. That is all.) I know what you mean about cats. I've seen a few in my day that would let you do just about anything to them. Some old friends of mine had this amazing tabby Tarkus, and from his earliest kittenhood he was openly friendly and affectionate and just centered. Unlike many cats I've known he was unspookable. You could pick him up and hold him like a baby, stand him up, make him play air guitar (no I didn't do that to him lol, but his "dad" did). He might look at you like you were an idiot, but he really didn't care. I babysat him through many of my friends' vacations, and he was also incredibly sneaky lol. He'd get into stuff and make it look like another animal in the house was to blame. But what a totally cool, fun cat he was.

Another friend had a cat who awakened her every morning by biting her on the head. Now she was one neurotic kitty. :)

The one I'm holding in the av was pretty schtizoid, too.
 
Thank you, Homie. You are very sweet. (Note to everyone: Yes, we really like each other. That is all.)

Translation: We have a secret :heart:

:devil: :D

I know what you mean about cats. I've seen a few in my day that would let you do just about anything to them. Some old friends of mine had this amazing tabby Tarkus, and from his earliest kittenhood he was openly friendly and affectionate and just centered. Unlike many cats I've known he was unspookable. You could pick him up and hold him like a baby, stand him up, make him play air guitar (no I didn't do that to him lol, but his "dad" did). He might look at you like you were an idiot, but he really didn't care. I babysat him through many of my friends' vacations, and he was also incredibly sneaky lol. He'd get into stuff and make it look like another animal in the house was to blame. But what a totally cool, fun cat he was.

Another friend had a cat who awakened her every morning by biting her on the head. Now she was one neurotic kitty. :)

The one I'm holding in the av was pretty schtizoid, too.

Well, Kato is very easily spooked. While he's a little furry bottom, he's jumpy as all get out, so you can't really abuse him. Probably a good thing, otherwise the kids would maul him (they actually love the Kato, and it is terribly cute to watch how gentle they are with him)
 
and my little girls are so laid back and tame in a 1000 mile an hour sort of way... Especially Zelda. She ran part way up a wall the other day before she realized she was vertical instead of horizontal. Then she hung there for a few minutes while she thought it over.
 
AAwwee.. Thank you. I might have scribbled a few poems too, but they tend to scare people so I don't usually post them. I lurk over in the AH too, sometimes.:rose:

Hi Snowy! Lovely to see you here! What can I get you?

By all means post your stuff, here in the Bistro or on the threads or whatever. I doubt it'll be any scarier than some...


My writing sucks, so it is scary by default. Feel free to post. If any of the harpies are too nasty I'll pull out Mr. Wooden Ruler.

--

O you wish, mistah man. Besides, the chix in here are in general sweet as pie. It's the men that occasionally get all het up about poetry and What It All Should Be...

And I suspect very few of them would be amenable to Mr. Ruler. On the other hand, if you're just looking for a good excuse to wave it around, I could use a couple of resounding smacks today just to get my attitude back where it needs to be.

Happy slightly belated Solstice and full Moon, everyone!



If Jesus sees his shadow on Sunday, do we get 6 more weeks of Lent?

bj
 
Hi Snowy! Lovely to see you here! What can I get you?

By all means post your stuff, here in the Bistro or on the threads or whatever. I doubt it'll be any scarier than some...




O you wish, mistah man. Besides, the chix in here are in general sweet as pie. It's the men that occasionally get all het up about poetry and What It All Should Be...

And I suspect very few of them would be amenable to Mr. Ruler. On the other hand, if you're just looking for a good excuse to wave it around, I could use a couple of resounding smacks today just to get my attitude back where it needs to be.

Happy slightly belated Solstice and full Moon, everyone!



If Jesus sees his shadow on Sunday, do we get 6 more weeks of Lent?

bj

What's Lent? :D

I keep trying to give up snow, but it won't let me.
 
I love you for being a Jew cooking ham on Easter.

among other things.

bj

I'm meeting my therapist Monday afternoon. and I told him not to eat lunch, that I'd bring him a ham sandwich on homemade challah. He cracked up (and probably thinks we'll be together for the next 20 years lol).

:kiss:
 
O you wish, mistah man. Besides, the chix in here are in general sweet as pie. It's the men that occasionally get all het up about poetry and What It All Should Be...

Men can be harpies. It's a unisex term.

And I suspect very few of them would be amenable to Mr. Ruler. On the other hand, if you're just looking for a good excuse to wave it around, I could use a couple of resounding smacks today just to get my attitude back where it needs to be.

Always happy to oblige. Especially with your attitude.

:caning:

---


I'm meeting my therapist Monday afternoon. and I told him not to eat lunch, that I'd bring him a ham sandwich on homemade challah. He cracked up (and probably thinks we'll be together for the next 20 years lol).

:kiss:

I'd eat it.

The sandwich! I was talking about the sandwich. Really. Honest.

*leers*
 
Men can be harpies. It's a unisex term.



Always happy to oblige. Especially with your attitude.

:caning:

---




I'd eat it.

The sandwich! I was talking about the sandwich. Really. Honest.

*leers*

Lol! You, sir, are incorrigible!

The challah came out amazing. I have an old photo of my great-grandparents that my grandfather brought with him from the old country (Poland). I showed them the bread (and oh it smells just amazing) and I swear their eyes twinkled. They'll be turning their backs on the ham tomorrow though heehee.
 
Men can be harpies. It's a unisex term.

true DAT.

Always happy to oblige. Especially with your attitude.

:caning:

---

OW!
quit it!
no don't.

ow!
quit it!
no, don't.

ow! um... ow... oh. oh. oooo. oooooooo! mmmmmmm....

ANGELINE:
I'm meeting my therapist Monday afternoon. and I told him not to eat lunch, that I'd bring him a ham sandwich on homemade challah. He cracked up (and probably thinks we'll be together for the next 20 years lol).

*giggle*
yeah, a lot of my initial appointments with therapists were spent getting the "no, that's not actually the problem" discussion out of the way. Yes, I have several beloveds. No, that's not the problem. Yes, I'm bisexual and kinky. No, that's not the problem. Yes, I'm a Witch. No, that's not the problem either. Yes, I hear voices. No, that's not the problem...

Alright. I must be off (quiet down there in the peanut gallery)

I must be leaving, since tonight there will be people at my house expecting something keen to happen regarding the spring equinox.

With the terrain like it is at the farm, the event may very well be sacred mudwrestling.

Yes, Pagans decorate eggs too! Happy Fertility Holiday, everyone!

enjoy your sacrificial ham lawl.

hearts,
Sahajayoginicinta
 
Lol! You, sir, are incorrigible!

Aww, thank you for noticing. It's one of my best traits :devil:

The challah came out amazing. I have an old photo of my great-grandparents that my grandfather brought with him from the old country (Poland). I showed them the bread (and oh it smells just amazing) and I swear their eyes twinkled. They'll be turning their backs on the ham tomorrow though heehee.

If you can bake bread well enough to make a picture hungry, I definitely want to taste you-er bread. Bread. Taaasty bread.

And I hope it is a good Virginia ham. We have the best, you know.

-----


OW!
quit it!
no don't.

ow!
quit it!
no, don't.

ow! um... ow... oh. oh. oooo. oooooooo! mmmmmmm....

Okay, now I'm a lil excited. :eek:

With the terrain like it is at the farm, the event may very well be sacred mudwrestling.

hearts,
Sahajayoginicinta

This is the kind of religion I need to be involved in. Except I don't actually want to get the mud on me. Which, when you get right down to it, is my overall take on religion in general. I don't want to get the mud on me.
 
Besides, the chix in here are in general sweet as pie. It's the men that occasionally get all het up about poetry and What It All Should Be...

*cough* exceptforthepassiveaggresivedigsandinsultsthatfrequentlyflyaboutbetweenthegalsandarethenimmediatelyapologisedfor,allinsincerelyofcourse. *cough*
 
Who said that?!

Shadowy figure at the table by the door — kindly leave!

(Or accept an oestrogen latte on the house!)
 
I am amazed at all this talk of therapists, do your therapists see therapists too? BTW that pic of the smilie peeling off the skin on his bum gives me the creeps! Perhaps I should see someone ...
 
Yet another BTW hi from the typing wounded hubby managed to sit his not inconsiderable weight on my right arm ( don't ask!) and bend it backwards there was an onimous craaaack but as I am wiggling fingers and typing I guess it was just a yelp and few tears moment tho I may be saying different tomorrow when it has stiffened up!
 
Yet another BTW hi from the typing wounded hubby managed to sit his not inconsiderable weight on my right arm ( don't ask!) and bend it backwards there was an onimous craaaack but as I am wiggling fingers and typing I guess it was just a yelp and few tears moment tho I may be saying different tomorrow when it has stiffened up!

I fractured a bone in my forearm last summer. I did pull-ups on it. I hit the heavy bag with it. I had full range of motion. I figured it was fine until I developed a lump on the bone and a physical therapist friend told me it was likely a bone callous and that I'd probably broken the arm. Yay for that old saw about movement meaning you've not broken it, right?

In the end, it didn't hold me back. I didn't know it was busted, so I lived my life like I usually do, with all the mountain biking, lifting, and sundry rough stuff I always do. It just hurt a little more.

Hope nothing is wrong with you UYS.
 
God of Man
speaks through Abraham's
leaves while dreams
dance amongst toadstools
and Maya turns
the World Illusion

The true believers
rise to greet
the wan sun
while staid faithful
kneel to pray

Sun rises on
the right and
falls to darkness
on the left

Illusions spin as
I stare to
the chill North

I know well,
Faith is weakness

But I believe
 
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Somebody take my pen away. My keyboard too. I am irresponsible tonight, and will write my sighs into a bottle.

I need to find the mojo again. I left my true self behind, and turned my back on me. I mortgaged my power for the currency of fickle hearts.

I need a cigar and loud music.
I need pool.
I need distraction.
I need to flirt with some pretty thing that wonders why I'm so damned self-assured.
I need to say no, but thank you for offering.

I sit here listening to the wrong music in a well-lit room trying to remember who is hitting these keys. Is it me, or some pale spectre that has forgotten his own face?

I want wind in my face and sweat on my brow. I want smell. I want struggle. Not wan consideration in an empty place, wondering why I bare my soul to those who find it tarnished.

Give me the willingness to submerge myself in lost control. Give me surcease from sorrow found in drink or lethe. Give me the option to let it fucking go.

Anything but to sit here and know unrelentingly that it is my own fault. That I own this. That by my will alone this tower was built.

I am irresponsible tonight, because I have tired of responsibility. It's heavy, and I can't hold it tonight.

So I am become the phantom petitioner, faded ghost of Martin Luther tapping querulous missives on the church door of my soul. Calling timidly for the real me. Asking to see the Hand that once held the line.
 
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O you wish, mistah man. Besides, the chix in here are in general sweet as pie. It's the men that occasionally get all het up about poetry and What It All Should Be...
Why we Men are now demanding a Corner Where Serious Issues Related To And About Poetry (And Other Weighty Matters) might be discussed, where we can shout at each other while we sip an ale or a whisky & soda or even, if there are no authorities around, twist up some cannibis and argue vociferously, man unfriendly-like.

I mean, These are Serious Issues and Should Be Talked About.

'Sides, it gives us reason to drink and look at those girlie, um, figures that are being nuturing over in the corner.

Nature. Nuture. Puzzle, that.
 
Good afternoon from the stiff but still typing wounded which is just as well as I now have to go type up his letters whereas I would rather make mad passionate love all afternoon (anyone offering?)
 
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