(no subject)
This weekend I lost a sort of suedo-virginity, in that I, after a fourth-bottle of whiskey, and nearly three bottles of guinness, became drunk. Sloshingly so. Now there's something I can check off my list. It's right underneath that "be a vegan for a while" thing which, at the time of inebriation, just didn't seem so important anymore, at least not as important as that damnable donut.
This was while we were camping. Oh, we thought we were so hardy and suave, with our windbreaks and scavenged-firewood and our lack of tent. That's right, sleeping under the open sky (and seventy-three blankets)! But, little did we know that something so fierce and dangerous as a SLIGHT WIND SHIFT could foil our survivalist dreams. Woken up, either by the cold or by a sister who was woken up by the cold, I retreated to the car where the heater was turned on. I was still quite out of it, and don't remember too much about the retreat to my father's house, or his gracious offer of letting my Dherfiur and I of crashing (literally, for me) there for the rest of the night. I do remember his french-toast-surprise the next morning, however, and I am very thankful for it.
Way-back-time-machine to Saturday, BEFORE camping, but AFTER work (which was very boring, but I was thankful for the time-and-a-half). There was a ceili. It was a mystical, legend-like ceili, see, and I cannot pinpoint why. Just know this: IT WAS THE BEST TIME I HAVE EVER HAD IRISH DANCING. Calm down, you; the caps just mean I'm excited, not angry.
It was at the Dubliner pub. There was live music (and a new fiddler who rocked, well, reeled). There was a pagan named Lizzy/ie who enjoyed tossing me about. But I cannot describe the zest and zeal of it, the absolute I-have-died-and-the-christians-were-right-about-heaven-at-least kind of feeling. Magical.
Now lets flash-forward to this coming Saturday. Kira is having a birthday party. I like Kira, in part because of her zombie-dancing skills, but there are other reasons. And she so graciously has opened a place there for me. How keen! But she didn't want her present early (gasp)! She had a chance to rip it from my fingers and free it from its tissue-paper prison, and then to enjoy it for a whole week-and-a-half before her party, where she prefers I give it to her. Why Kira, that's some willpower you have.
At the temple, there are many new students there. Fionnula a-dherfiur organized a dinner for the students last Sunday, which was good. There were four of us there. Then we were to go to a Samhain Bonfire, and one of my oldest enemies subverted our quest. Is the Mall of America in St. Paul? MAPQUEST THINKS SO! (Those caps were for anger, by the by.)
Ah, look at all my meaningless commentary on the goingsons around me. I bet you're all looking for the rich, meaty stuff, a window to my soul or something. Well, here it is!
I grabbed a butt this weekend. A female butt. Two-handed, full on, fresh-squeezed-orange-juice butt grab. And I was forgiven! Personally, I think I was discriminated against, with such an easy forgiveness, because of my sexual orientation, but in the end I suppose its better than being called a pervert, and then slapped or something.
So that's the dirt on Tim.
This was while we were camping. Oh, we thought we were so hardy and suave, with our windbreaks and scavenged-firewood and our lack of tent. That's right, sleeping under the open sky (and seventy-three blankets)! But, little did we know that something so fierce and dangerous as a SLIGHT WIND SHIFT could foil our survivalist dreams. Woken up, either by the cold or by a sister who was woken up by the cold, I retreated to the car where the heater was turned on. I was still quite out of it, and don't remember too much about the retreat to my father's house, or his gracious offer of letting my Dherfiur and I of crashing (literally, for me) there for the rest of the night. I do remember his french-toast-surprise the next morning, however, and I am very thankful for it.
Way-back-time-machine to Saturday, BEFORE camping, but AFTER work (which was very boring, but I was thankful for the time-and-a-half). There was a ceili. It was a mystical, legend-like ceili, see, and I cannot pinpoint why. Just know this: IT WAS THE BEST TIME I HAVE EVER HAD IRISH DANCING. Calm down, you; the caps just mean I'm excited, not angry.
It was at the Dubliner pub. There was live music (and a new fiddler who rocked, well, reeled). There was a pagan named Lizzy/ie who enjoyed tossing me about. But I cannot describe the zest and zeal of it, the absolute I-have-died-and-the-christians-were-right-about-heaven-at-least kind of feeling. Magical.
Now lets flash-forward to this coming Saturday. Kira is having a birthday party. I like Kira, in part because of her zombie-dancing skills, but there are other reasons. And she so graciously has opened a place there for me. How keen! But she didn't want her present early (gasp)! She had a chance to rip it from my fingers and free it from its tissue-paper prison, and then to enjoy it for a whole week-and-a-half before her party, where she prefers I give it to her. Why Kira, that's some willpower you have.
At the temple, there are many new students there. Fionnula a-dherfiur organized a dinner for the students last Sunday, which was good. There were four of us there. Then we were to go to a Samhain Bonfire, and one of my oldest enemies subverted our quest. Is the Mall of America in St. Paul? MAPQUEST THINKS SO! (Those caps were for anger, by the by.)
Ah, look at all my meaningless commentary on the goingsons around me. I bet you're all looking for the rich, meaty stuff, a window to my soul or something. Well, here it is!
I grabbed a butt this weekend. A female butt. Two-handed, full on, fresh-squeezed-orange-juice butt grab. And I was forgiven! Personally, I think I was discriminated against, with such an easy forgiveness, because of my sexual orientation, but in the end I suppose its better than being called a pervert, and then slapped or something.
So that's the dirt on Tim.