Picture of Octopus Tattoo

Picture of an octopus tattoo design.

Spine Bone Tattoo Design

Spine Back Bone Tattoo.

Modern Tribal Arm Tattoo

Modern Tribal Arm Tattoo Design.

Tattoo Outlines Of Two Winged Cherub

Winged Cherub Tattoo Outline Design

Tribal Snake Tattoo With Sun

Tribal snake tattoo design.

'Cause You Just Might Get It

                                                                  [via shapeshift]
             
Ohhhhh my god......

I can't walk.

I can't even walk.

I have overdone it. 


Why did I think this was a good idea?

'Gluttony' is one of the 7 Deadlies for a reason.

It's like:

You know how, when you were 9, and you were over at your friend's house next door, and her cool aunt was babysitting, and lounging on the front stoop wearing her curly red hair up and real big hoop earrings and you could see her bra and that she had an old blue tattoo of someone's name over the top of one boob, and she was smoking? 

                               leeann [via myparentswereawesome]

And you were like, Can I smoke one too?  and instead of saying, Are you crazy, who do you think you are, you're 9 years old, smoking is bad for you, she said, Sure, go ahead, but we're going to smoke the whole pack...? 

                                          [via anne l.- d.]

And you were so excited because finally, here was a cool adult who took you seriously, and you reached for a cigarette, and she lit it, and you choked and smoked and gasped your way through a third of it, and then promptly puked all over the porch; tears pouring out of your eyes and vomit burning and dripping out your nose while she laughed, saying, no, no, you wanted to smoke, now you're gonna finish the whole pack, and you never, NEVER touched a cigarette again?

This is kind of like that.

Too much fucking. 

So I thought it would be amazing to have anonymous lesbian sex for 5 days in a row.

                                                                    [via deadgirls]
I neglected to factor in a really important detail:

Every night, it was a different woman.

                                                                 [via misguided ghosts]

A fresh horse.
A new player, tagged in to replace the tiring quarterback.

No one else was having a Week of Debauchery.  
Everyone else was just having a night.

These women were not tired.  They were not sore.  They had relentless energy, enthusiasm for their work, and were determined to wear me the hell out.

Every time.

I have another date tonight.
What am I even going to do?

Mama can't take another pounding.

I leave for Mexico tomorrow.
It can't be too soon.

Now, queeries, I realize I haven't told you ANY good details. 

Rest assured I am writing shit down, so all I'll have to do in Mexico is hit "Publish."  We're going to do a separate post for each date, starting with...

THE TUESDAY OF TERROR.

Now don't be pissed.  I'm gonna go lie on a beach and heal my 'center.' 

                                                     concha [via myparentswereawesome]

This Week of Debauchery has been epic. 
Awesome.
Amazing.
And it ain't over yet.

I have to go lie down now in a bathtub for the next 3 hours with a cold compress, some Excedrin, and a mango protein shake.

Be careful what you wish for, gayelles...

Pack Your Poncho

Oi, lesbicas!

I've said it before, and I'll say it again:

There is nothing like Seattle.

I'm sitting at a cafe called Zoca, having a transcendental experience with my soy latte. 
It's perfect.

A (fucking adorable) Asian boi with a tattoo of the full Hebrew text of the Kaddish running up her arm made my drink. 

Good fucking morning. 

How I would love to know the story of that tattoo.

Faggots, I know I praise Seattle a lot, but come. on.
C'mon! 

Walking into the Sea-Tac airport baggage claim is like surfacing from the waves. 

One big breath in. 
Breathe in the queers.

                                                                 via hellogirls
                               
When you've been working in places like Iowa for the past couple weeks, Seattle seems like an effing gay Disneyland. 

The Happiest Place on Earth. 

                                               via tomika davis
A place like San Francisco - it's so normal to be gay/trans/queer that it's actually boring. 

I can deal with boring.

                                                            [via cutegirlsmakemenervous]

The last time I talked to y'all, I was thinking about maybe not continuing with my job next year. 


You know, the job where I travel all over the damn universe every day.

But I just had a realization: 


If I don't sign on for another year, that means...I won't be back to Seattle for a while. 
Maybe not for a long time!

The thought of not being in Seattle on a regular basis is causing my throat to constrict at odd moments. 


I look at all the tiny coffeeshops, each churning out perfect espressos the whole day long. 
Gulp.


I look at the friendly neighborhood farmer's markets, full of badly-disciplined, well-dressed toddlers with parents who used to be stoners but now work for Microsoft.
Ulp.


My gaze lovingly falls upon an innocuous little bakery...there's a hand-lettered sign reading "We have gluten-free cookies!" in the window.
Gluten-free cookies.  Just hangin' out.  All for Krista.
My eyes well with tears.


Everywhere I turn, Seattle whispers, "You will fucking miss me so bad." 

Seattle is right. 
I started thinking.  Thinking about how my last week here should be a blow-out week. 
A farewell tour, if you will, of my jewely emerald city.

As many gluten-free pastries as I could stuff in my mouth. 
As much good coffee as I could swallow. 
And as many dykes as I could trick into sleeping with me.

                                                            [via thingssheloves]

I decided that the best way, hands-down, to celebrate what Seattle has meant to me would be to have...

 A Week of Debauchery.

One whole week of dykes. 
A different date every day. 
If I could swing it.
Awesome.


It is rough being as greedy as me.

First things first.


I cleared my Week of Debauchery with CJ, my favorite lil' piece, before moving ahead with my plan. 


CJ is fantastic.  The first time we slept together, 4.5 years ago, we had this conversation afterwards:

Me:  (sweating, naked, and happy)  Sooo...I'm one of those slutty non-monogamous girls. I'd like to see you again, but you should know up front: I can't change this about myself.
I mean, I could if I wanted, but I don't want. I love women. And I want to sleep with more of them.


(pause)


in a panicked rush)
Um. I-don't-want-to-mislead-you-I-totally-understand-if-you-want-a-completely-monogamous-partner-you-have-every-right-to-that-if-you-don't-want-to-see-me-again-that's-fine-I-just-thought-you-should-know-what-you're-getting-into-with-me.


(big pause)

CJ: I like slutty girls.

We've been together ever since. 
With CJ's blessing, I moved forward with my plan. 

Week of Debauchery!

                                            [via hellosensibleheart]

Now, lesbos, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. 
For me, 5 dates in 5 days is an impossible feat. 

I am not a player. 
I'm the epitome of "not smooth." 
I got no game. 


I. Am. Awkward.

If I was going to accomplish my goal, I needed help. 
I needed Craigslist.

I spent Sunday night cruising Seattle Craigslist with Kelly, picking out possible lezzies and writing to them.

                                                   eek [via myseaofanonymity]

The lezzies wrote back.  Then I wrote back.  Then they wrote back.

Tick-tock went the clock.

                                       Rosa [via myparentswereawesome]

I didn't have time for this.  I needed 5 dates!  And they needed to start Monday night!

Fuckit, I said.  I'm posting my own ad.


Forty-five minutes later, I had 37 responses sitting in my inbox.


Isn't technology amazing?

Because I seem to like to humiliate myself, here's the ad I posted, verbatim:

Week of Debauchery - 27 (Seattle)


Hi.
I'm 27, a super-femme, and I'm in Seattle for one week.

Let's be frank: I want to have sex. Lots and lots of sex. With you, hopefully.

It could be a week of debauchery! Who's excited?

Here's what I'm looking for: aggressive, confident butches and bois.  Alright, or femmes.  
OKwhoamIkidding, if you're hot, get over here. 

 I don't care about size, I don't care about race, I don't care about age.

I do care about playing safe, the ability to listen, and having conversations.


I want to get to know you. In, um, lots of different ways.


I'm blonde, I'm pervy, and I like funny/crass women.

Finally...not hatin', just sayin: I only want to sleep with dykes.  Not men.  Not couples.  And not someone who wants to "learn the ropes."

Let's have dirty dirty dyke sex.

Want to?

Pic for pic.

*Ka-BOOM!*


Amazed at the response my ad (with no picture!!) got, I cackled over my inbox like a hen locked in a granary.

Two hours of back-and-forth negotiations and picture exchanges later, I had my five dates locked in for the week. 


It was like ordering Chinese take-out.

The dates start tonight.  I'm ridiculously excited.
I am going to glut myself on ladies.

I'll tell you how the Week of Debauchery goes next time.
Wish me luck?