#dexi out of context | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orbees · 1 year

Note

🥊💀🍎 vino

gonna chuck this under a read more just cause going into parents a bit alludes to abuse, not in mega deets but still. brief mention of drug use too

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

love to do: read (he's always been a big bookworm), interacting/tending to his 234234 creatures (he's particularly fond of his ratties), Tinkering w/ his Gay Lil Gadgets, Abusing Substances... he also likes... creature sighting??? like herping but not just reptiles. insects. some mammals too. he like Creatures. he also loves opportunities to show off his knowledge. he likes to hear himself talk. LOL

hate to do: exercise is the first thing that comes to mind lmfao like he's better w/. dexy stuff but strenuous strength based activities would absolutely kill his ass lmfaooo he hates it. if you tried to make him go on a run he'd attack kill bite. he and arahana would be like oil and water. they would not get along at all.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

vino's got a weird relationship w/ death cause he fears it deeply but at the same time is interested in it, both as a physical process and the philosophical implications of it. he does a lot of reading on it, but also spends a lot of time worrying about it. sure doesnt change his lifestyle tho lol.

making mistakes / fear of failure / looking stupid is a big fear of his in general. i dont think counts as a phobia but /shrug. his general social anxiety/ fear of abandonment could also go here i suppose

theres ofc. the Apes which i imagine is rly funny out of context. for newcomers: vino was almost killed by one. yeah

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

vino's parents passed when he was still fairly young. long enough to leave an impression but he doesnt know them as well as vespera did

he had a mother & father, his biological parents. ppl who knew his mom always comment how much he's like her, in appearance And temperament. he's pretty sour towards his parents tbh tho he's more fond of his mom. she was very protective of him / looked out for him but didnt rly understand him type vibe

his relationship w/ his dad is definitely more complicated but also more starkly negative. his dad was the studious academic type and vicente craved his approval; u could even say thats part of how he got on that path to begin w/. a mix of his own interest and wanting his dad to notice him

it never rly worked tho, vicente's dad was very much the cold distant type. vicente needed a lot more care + attention than he was ever willing to give and grew to negatively regard him for Needing That if that make sense? he was quite open w/ his disdain and greatly preferred vespera, and was transparent in that. vespera hated him though

thank u for asking!

#oc posting #oc: vicente

2 notes · View notes

greenreticule · 2 years

Photo

Dexter Jettster’s Entry In The Smuggler’s Guide (Canon)

Context: The Smuggler’s Guide (2018) by Dan Wallace is an in-universe Star Wars book. Pirate Queen Maz Kanata wrote down locations of several treasures hidden throughout the galaxy into this logbook and sent it out into the underworld, to see where the Force might take it.

The book is a collection of various entries, anecdotes, and adventures from different people in the Star Wars underworld, starting somewhere in the early Imperial Era. Characters will make notes in the margins of other’s entries, making the entire world feel lived in.

Dex’s entry is written in the early Imperial Era of the galaxy, sometime between Revenge of the Sith and Solo.

Full transcript under the cut:

Transcript of the pages, which are weathered, the letters written out in blocky all-caps, indicating the personality of the writer as someone blunt and confident:

Well what do you know! Maz Kanata.

That does me good, seeing that name again. Wasn’t so long ago that I called myself her boyfriend. Four armed massage was my specialty! I’ve still got her letters inside an old ammo box. Dexi Jet is what she called me. Still warms my heart.

[[”Still warms my heart” is underlined and given a note in the margins: “And people say I’m charming - Lando”]]

Ah. Who am I kidding. It was so long ago. When you get as old as me the years seem like they’re not worth so much. Memories either feel like a century ago or yesterday. No in between.

I found this logbook in a box of reading material, tucked between The Biography of Master Thief Makuta and The Field Guide To Trammic Reptavians. Maz Kanata’s name on the first page drew me in. And that’s why my pocket book is fifty credits lighter.

A younger Besalisk might go after the treasures, but just keeping her name close is good enough for me.

[[line break]]

Since I wrote the above I’ve ditched Pashvi and booked passage for the Stellar Skirt of the Tingel Arm. Heard about strange things out there: illegal cyborg mods and bodies grown to fit buyer specs. To name just two.

Cloners, maybe, plying their trade for private clients? There’s plenty of work out there for those types, now that the syndicates control the Outer Rim.

The star-steamer made port on Athus Klee this morning. The passengers poured out and melted into the Spacers’ District. But me, I don’t move as fast as I used to. By the time I made it down the ramp, every single inn had no rooms.

So I walked out into the underbrush and found a rise that wasn’t too damp, and then I splayed out under the stars.

[[A painting of Dexter Jettster -- a four-armed, fat, and muscled alien with a wattle under his chin and a bony crest on his head -- sitting in adventuring gear beneath a purple, star-studded sky as tree silhouettes reach up behind him]]

I can’t blame all those hopefuls for heading out this way. Crimson Dawn posted big-money contracts for laborers. “One year,” they all think. “I can make it one year.” Most of them will be dead before then.

My favorite part of traveling is how the sky always has new stars. I guess some of them are probably the same stars, but everything looks different from a new angle.

[[line break]]

Four days into the jungle now. Plenty glad I brought that vibro-machete.

I’m close to what I came here for. I can feel it in my gut. And who can argue with a gut like this?

Six days, two viper bites, and more gnat nips than I can count. But sure as you’re born, that’s a Crimson Dawn ore hub down in that valley.

Rock haulers heading out and passenger shuttles heading in with more workers to feed the machine.

Had to do some sneaking, but on the far side of the processing plant, I found a cluster of hexagonal silos, like a hive. That’s a gene-mod chop shop.

I recorded some macrobinocular scans. Poor bastards. Hands turned into shovel blades. Noses and mouths switched out with biomesh for filtering toxins. Eyes as big as plates to collect the light that makes it all the way down to the depths.

[[In the margins is written “Not my best work, I confess. But why waste my genius on syndicate moneymen? - Dr. Evazan.”

Below is one of Dex’s macrobinocular scans of the laborers altered by Evazan’s experiments.]]

Even the Kaminoans had some pride in their work. But Crimson Dawn only wants to build more efficient miners and then work ‘em till their dead. Fates only know what kind of butcher they’ve got on their payroll.

I can’t save them all. I’m just one person. I can’t even save one of them.

[[line break]]

Okay, okay, Maz was right. I’m soft in the head. I’m heading back to the starport with my recordings. But this time I’m bringing a buddy.

[[A painting of a Rodian laborer with the experimental alterations to his face]]

He can’t talk -- at least not clear enough for me to understand -- but he knows what happened to him just the same. I know stealing one worker won’t make different to Crimson Dawn. But I figured it’d make a difference to this guy.

Last night we just lay on our backs for hours, staring up through a break in the canopy. He likes the stars.

Made it to the port this morning and commed my buddy on Coruscant. As politicians go he’s one of the good ones. He’s sending a ship to collect my new pal along with my surveillance data, then taking everything before the Senate Council of Labor Abuses.

I’m not so raw to think this’ll shit down the syndicates or anything -- not when they’re the closest thing some sectors have to a functioning government. But it might put a stop to those laboratory horror shows, and that makes today a pretty good day.

[[In the margins is written “This is ringing a bell. Should probably show it to-- Nah. She doesn’t want to talk to me. - Han”]]

End Transcript

#dexter jettster #star wars #crimson dawn #attack of the clones #maz kanata

45 notes · View notes

cricketnationrise · 3 years

Note

nursey and dex, reading room, 3:30 am :)

reading room, 3:30am

It’s too goddamn hot in the Haus.

Preseason is great and all - it gets him out of Maine and off the lobster boats early - but there’s a reason Dex plays a winter sport. Years of hockey and pre-dawn work haven’t prepared him for dealing with the height of summer at Samwell.

Dex thought that being in the basement would help, counting on being below ground with minimal windows to keep out the heat of the day. But in this, as in all things, the Haus defies logic. It’s boiling in the basement. And he knows for sure it’s just as hot everywhere else. He’ll have to move if he wants relief, needs moving air, and his fan just isn’t cutting it.

He wanders upstairs in just his briefs, intent on the front porch with a bottle of water and his phone. Dex doesn’t want to go any further than he has to. He’s only been outside for a couple minutes when he hears a clatter and, “Shit, chill,” from above him. Obviously Nursey isn’t asleep yet either. If Dex just shouts up, Nursey might actually fall off the roof. Texting is safer.

Dex: you okay up there? 🐥

“Yo Dexy! You on the porch?”

“Ayuh,” he says, “Too hot in the bungalow.”

“Get up here and keep me company!” And Dex, helpless, goes. He braves the second floor after snagging another bottle for Nursey. It is actually cooler on the reading room than the porch. The second floor is just high enough to catch the slight breeze.

“A blessing on both your houses Dex,” Nursey says at the sight of the extra water bottle, downing half of it immediately. “Chill.”

Dex just rolls his eyes fondly. He does a lot of things fondly now, he thinks, drinking in both his own water and the sight of Nursey in just his briefs. Despite the water, his throat is bone dry. Dex has always thought Nursey was unfairly attractive, even when they were still fighting all the time. But there’s something extra special tonight.

Maybe it’s the moonlight highlighting his curls, or the way his tattoo now extends up over his shoulder and down his back, but Dex can’t look away.

There’s a drop of water sliding down Nursey’s neck.

It keeps getting slightly redirected from his stubble, but it makes its way down his neck, over his Adam’s apple, and settles in the dip of Nursey’s collarbone. Dex wants to lick it off him. He might be panting. Dimly, he’s surprised that he’s not being chirped to within an inch of his life. He’d deserve it, he’s absolutely gone on Nursey and ogling his best friend to whom he hasn’t confessed said feelings is one of the least chill things he’s ever done.

When he finally manages to wrench his eyes back to Nursey’s face, he sees why he’s gotten away with the ogling. Nursey’s eyes are decidedly south of Dex’s face, seemingly stuck on Dex’s thigh. Well, more specifically, on the new ink high up enough that no one on the team has seen it yet.

Dex can feel himself flushing, and not because of the heat. Because Dex has a Pablo Neruda quote on his thigh. In the original Spanish. And Nursey definitely recognizes it because Neruda is Nursey’s favorite poet. Dex spent all of last semester crushing on Nursey to the extent that Dex started reading Neruda on his own, working through the Spanish and looking up analysis and context.

The quote he got isn’t from any of the poems Nursey had (ha!) waxed poetic about. So it’s extremely obvious what he’s done. Nursey says, sort of strangled, not quite meeting his eye, “Nice ink, Dexy.”

“Yeah I got it a few weeks ago.” They are just sort of staring at each other, and for the first time Dex feels like his ridiculous crush isn’t unrequited, that it might even be longed for - can feel a grin trying to break out, but keeps it small for now.

“Oh, chill,” says Nursey, more of a breath than any actual volume. Dex licks his lips and sees Nursey’s eyes track the motion. He takes a deep breath.

And leans in.

#ficlet party #cricket writes #omgcp #check please #whoisthisboy #nurseydex #senior frogs #dex #nursey #my maine man #timestamp ficlet #researching neruda as a love language #texting for safety as a love language #keeping your d partner hydrated as a love language

101 notes · View notes

missoneminute · 2 years

Text

Translation of Peter’s French radio interview by @theoriginalcollectorglitter12! thank you so much!

Peter says he will present the songs that have influenced his new album. The Jam - English Rose. Magnificent, that's the right word. Listening to him touches me a lot. How do we relate it to our album The fantasy of... in fact we stung, borrowed lyrics from The Jam, like "yes, I'm wearing a mask". When we wrote in Etretat, Frédéric Lo often played this song, we even thought of doing a cover, and he also played songs by David Bowie - Little China Girl. The first time I met with Frédéric Lo, was to do a cover of Daniel Darc, Inutile Et Hors d'Usage. I think I prefer my version, because the melody stands out even more. I met Frédéric Lo once in Paris, in a bar, I remember very well his leather jacket which stank and his tattoo of the man with the golden arm. We sang and screamed a Happy Mondays song in the bar and we were asked to leave... (Frédéric Lo then told Peter that Daniel Darc liked him a lot, and Peter was moved). I admit that Jarvis cocker was a god for me when I was 14,15 years old, he is a hero of the people in England and a sacred dancer. He’s a kind of an icon. We crossed paths 2 or 3 times, but these are not very interesting anecdotes: once he dropped off his children at school, and I was passing by in a taxi and I shouted "hey Jarvis", he lifted his head without saying anything... Peter says the group October replaced the group Dexys Midnight Runners because their singer insulted David Bowie on stage during their first act and they were therefore fired from the tour. Then Peter talks about the neighboring house in Etretat, and says that she belongs to the family of the drummer of the group October, but that he does not know if it is true, and therefore does not know who is the drummer of Talking Heads. So we were in Etretat writing and recording songs, and on very rare occasions we would go out, but we had very little social life because there was confinement (lockdown). There was a bar in Le Havre and on the wall a painting of a guy in a tank top, long legs and an accordion at his feet. I thought he had a good look, it was Marc Minelli. I wanted to listen to a song that captures all that Normandy represents for me, outside of any rock or pop context. This song, my wife's grandmother sang to her when she was a child, it's the only version I found... (Ma Normandie - Les Devanautes) if I'm not mistaken, this song is about a hunter who went in pursuit of a rabbit and who gets lost in the mist. The Charming Man is the kind of song that forms the cornerstone of why I wanted to sing, dance and even stay alive, and Frédéric Lo likes to play it when it's time to pass the time, or calm his nerves. Peter says the Clash song was written by Mick Jones when his childhood friend, who was doing robberies and heists, was released from prison. It's a song about friendship, it's also a very beautiful melody. Mick Jones produced two Libertines albums and the Babyshambles album, and I wanted to work with him again. When we made the list of our possible contacts, there was Mick Jones and Terry Hall from the Specials. I wrote him a letter, to which he never replied: "So Mick, if you listen to this show, stay free and stay in touch". We still have to talk about David Bowie, because this song "Heroes", this chord progression, Frédéric Lo has it, I wouldn't say stolen, but "upcycled". It didn't work out, but there is still this feeling of saying that we too could be heroes and write such great songs. I remember exactly when we had a rather heated debate on Oasis and I told you (Frédéric Lo) about the cover of "Heroes" by Oasis, and you played me on the guitar an imitation of Liam Gallagher playing David Bowie.

#peter doherty #pete doherty

16 notes · View notes

big-cool-corn · 5 years

Text

so I decided to look up all the times Iason’s heels were mentioned to see in What context they were Mentioned

Under the cut cause I’m gonna directly copy paste quotes. I’m gonna directly copy paste every quote that mentions his heels. It’s gonna get Long, probably. I also don’t wanna plague Yall’s dashes with fuck whatever

1. “Yet, he still couldn't believe this Iason Manning had taken down Big John. He had a good look at the blond minx, and that slim beauty couldn't have weighed more than one-hundred-and-twenty pounds. If not for those three inch heels on the leather boots [...] he realized how sleight and delicate the bitch truly was. Five-nine and so sinewy, yet capable of killing men twice his size.” (heels are mentioned in a “look at how tiny he is, he’s so tiny without the Heels and yet he Killed a large dude” kinda context)

2. “Then his eyes narrowed as he peered closer at the figure wrapped in black from head to toe, sensing something so familiar. The person wore a flowing, hooded cloak. A scarf was wrapped around the face, most likely used to keep the dust and sand off. Sunglasses covered the eyes. Since the big hood was up, he couldn't make out the hair. The wind picked up then, blowing the cloak open from the hips down and those long legs encased in leather pants sensually moved one in front of the other as the person strutted over to a sand cruiser. Leather boots with at least a three inch heel adorned the sinewy form.” (part of the outfit, to make us recognize that Hmm, somebody was wearing Heels before. Actually there is only one Fool to wear heels volintarily in the wasteland. could it be Iason?)

3. “With a flick of the wrist, he rolled the coils, easily setting his whips back into his jacket. He slowly pivoted, his three inch heels clicking against the metal floor as he headed for the stairs. Nonchalantly, he glanced over his shoulder. "Get rid of the body. Toss it in the trench. After all, such incompetence does not merit a burial."”(again heels are mentioned as a part of the Outfit)

4. “Actually, he was impressed by Iason's ability to govern the defense for this city. Men who were bigger, stronger and taller all took orders from a minx who stood a measly five-ten without those boots and weighed maybe no more than 135 pounds. So damn delicate.” (again, in the same context as the first one: he’s so Tiny and yet He commands everything and he’s powerful (also jc got the heights wrong but we’re gonna forgive her, metrics are Hard. Plus tiny gremlin Iason is more fun to Imagine than proper Height Iason))

5. “The guards all stood to attention, nodding their heads. Iason ignored them and entered the building, his heels clicking against the cement, echoing off the walls as he strolled to the Admiral's quarters where he knew the leader of the city would be breaking his fast.” (again, as a part of the outfit, maybe even to emphasize that He announces his arrival loudly through his heels from far. Also just say breakfast)

6. “Vashta held open the door and Iason stepped inside, mounting the stairs that would lead to their quarters. His heels connected against the cement, echoing off the walls. Vashta followed behind, his brow cocked as he watched his husband move that sinewy body in such a sensual manner. Man, every task the minx performed was exuded with sensual grace.” (again, as a part of his Outfit and also to emphasize that he announces his arrival loudly and that he’s Smexy. He’s dexy. Even his husband points that out. Also jc why you said “mounted” your wording amuses me)

the thrilling Conclusion I wanna make: y’all know how gnc men like to be treated in the media, right? Well Iason got None of that treatment. His heels never were mentioned in a comical context, in fact, quite the opposite. His heels were emphashising on his Powerfulness. On the fact thar he’s Loud and not afraid to show himself Off. And also casually, just as a part of his outfit. Cause why not. He’s Iason after all. So yeah, jc got a couple of things icky in her novel (like the way she treats women, I mean sorry jc but what the Heck was that), but luckily gnc dudes weren’t a part of those couple of things

#my posts #Birth of Humanity #I'm sorry I just really love birbs of humanity #Iason Manning #I'm gonna tag him watch Me #He's worth of a tag #also jc is the writer #she signed herself as J.C. Bruyere #so shes jc

1 note · View note

laumien · 3 years

Text

note 10 - lexapro cock

His name was J***. He was studying a phd in science. At first I got camp vibes from him, he later told me he was infact bi sexual, which explained the campness but also the rampant sex life that he had described. Just like the last guy who sexually assaulted me. He also had a gingerish beard, also like the last guy, but a very wide jaw so I was grateful for the facial hair. He told me that being bi sexual was just a phase, he had always been curious, having been to an all boys school and his father died at age 19, both unrelated but I felt that they potentially were somewhat related. He told me he was over fucking boys, he had discovered that really what he was after was dicks. He just loved dicks he told me. If he could he would have preferred to only fuck transgendered people, who had yet to receive gender reassignment surgery, so he could get a female with the male anatomy yet apparently searching for such a thing on dating apps was frowned upon, and the type of man that searches for this would be deemed a “chaser” which he didn’t want to be.

I found it ironic that he asked for consent before he fingered me or went down on me. J was so aware of what was okay and not okay for women, non binaries, sex workers and all, yet when it came to actually fucking me he was just like the rest of the other pig men I had encountered over my 28 years of existence.

Before we kissed, I was so uncomfortable because I knew it was coming and I liked him. I was nervously blubbering like a teenager just talking about my sister, how I hate cats, and being a vegetarian. Right before he kissed me he moved his arm around my body, shuffled the rubbish to the side and lent in further. I said “you should fuck your cat”. I immediately apologised and he said he thought it was cute that I was so nervous. For context, we had been talking about why it was taboo to engage in beastiality throughout the night so whilst I probably shouldn’t have told him to go fuck his cat, it wasn’t entirely out of context. We kissed a lot that evening. It was so hot, 40 degrees that evening and it started to rain. We both had to wipe our mouths after kissing and I remember thinking “am I a bad kisser? Why is he wiping his mouth?”. I knew he was a bad kisser, in my own opinion, and I told him that on our second date right before we fucked. For the first time I was being vocal about what I didn’t like. Something I had struggled with this year, but never in the past. I didn’t like it when he stuck his fingers in my mouth, especially because he had just eaten a falafel wrap, I didn’t like it when he put his hand around my neck to choke me and most of all I hated how much tongue he used. I understand using tongue during a hot fuck, but not in my car when you are kissing me goodnight after I’ve just said I don’t want to fuck you.

I hated his room. The house itself looked like a typical inner west Italian grandparents house. I felt like they should have had lace curtains and a rocking chair out the front. The front gate had stone lions sitting on them, if that is to set the picture for you of how gaudy and retro the house seemed. His room had many shades of brown, his clothing rack just had various tones of grey and green items on them, the art was shit and again brown. Even worse was that he had baby wipes and a bowl of dexys next to his bed. No wait, even worse was that there was a bowl of dry cat food and water for his cats next to his bed.

I didn’t want to fuck him, I knew that from the start of our first date when the conversation was dry and somewhat uncomfortable. Maybe I had been more drunk on the first date, that made him seem more interesting. He had a quick wit and unique interests, that’s what interested me about him. I only agreed to go inside to his house with him because I missed the intimacy of lying down in a bed and kissing someone you are in a relationship with. That’s the awkward thing about dating casually, you always make the first move in a public place like a park, pub, street, car, etc. and then where do you go from there? You either fuck in the park, like I have done on a few desperate occasions or you move to their room where you can see if there is chemistry outside of the public sphere. Unfortunately moving to their domain usually means that there is a power imbalance.

He made me feel really good in ways that I didn’t think were possible. He made me cum from fingering and licking me, I actually squirted for the first time with an outsider. I rode his face which was something I wouldn’t have ever done before, I’m usually too self conscious about my weight. He licked my ass too, which was something I had never had done to me before, so I was grateful for the somewhat eye-opening experience. I told him before I came into his room that I didn’t want to fuck him and I repeated that throughout. He knew I’d been sexually assaulted so he was very careful not to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with. Or at least that’s what he led me to believe. After making me cum so many times with his hands and mouth, I felt that I needed to end then night by letting him fuck me. Not because I wanted to fuck him but more because I didn’t know how else to end the evening. Do I just leave after he licked my ass?

I rolled over and said to him “okay you can fuck me”, and he said “what about warming me up?”. I laughed. Somewhat offended that he didn’t have a boner already from watching me cum but also because I didn’t like him enough to want to pleasure his soft cock in anyway. I tried touching him for a bit but it was like pulling on a cows teet, absolutely no stiffness to follow. Eventually I turned over and let him eat me out some more from behind, he then slipped his cock inside of me and we fucked for a bit. The thought entered my mind - had he used a condom? But I figured that I had trusted him enough to get me this far and I needed to get out of my head and into my body so I could climax.

When we switched positions, I looked down and saw no condom. “Wheres the condom???” I asked him angrily. He simply responded with “oh whoops I’ll put one on”. As soon as he put the condom on he went soft. He said it was the lexapro, fuck lexapro this is the second soft cock I’ve had because of it this year, but I felt strongly that it was because he had been caught out. After that i found an excuse to leave, why hadn’t I found an excuse earlier, and drove home with flashbacks of my sexual assaults. The fingers in the mouth, the choking, the lack of communication with boundaries, the blatant disrespect of not using protection. It took me back to both B and D, the two men who sexually assaulted me both without condoms. I had flashes of B sticking his fingers into my mouth for me to suck. D lying on top of me after I had just vomited in the park, telling me he was going to fuck me. Both of them sliding in not using any form of protection, zero regard for my sexual health or the potential pregnancy that could follow.

The next day I told J I never wanted to see him again. I told him exactly why and he responded with “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” Fuck you J. You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew your lexapro soft cock wouldn’t be able to fuck with a rubber exterior so you put my health at risk. Fuck you.

0 notes

thebuniperspective-blog · 7 years

Text

The First Blog, Wherein I Come Out As Queer & Dunno How Long Titles On Tumblr Should Be: I Had a Weird Week

Hi, I’m Michael Bennett producer of The (Bunny) Buni Perspective! and I had a bad week. Kinda of an amazing week. And here I am, talking about things I’m now no longer embarrassed to disclose.

I’m going to talk about the week in sections as they come to me, so this might jump around a little, but it ends with Bunny Bennett and a promise to see you tomorrow.

Warning frank discussion of sex, pot and LSD use and cursing you fucking dumbshits. I promise not to be too gross.

I Joined, Figured Out, and Then Deleted Grindr, In One Single Day.

Pause for applause.

Grinder is not for highly specific queers. The title queer is feeling like the correctt word for me, as it also means weird. . So I’m polly, so far I’m deeply in love with two girls. I’ll be writing more about Heather and Meghan in the next few blogs. Promise girls.

I’m turned on by femininity. Not just sexually, feminine things were the bane of my childhood and now they draw me in. To make this simple my ideal girl, in pop culture for many, many reasons, is some variation of:

...35 and inserting gifs that make you blush...shame....

The thing is, I have for years been drawn to femboys and just shoved the feeling down. I can see the first guy I wanted to ask on a date vividly in my mind. I have a really hard time explaining it, but if Pearl were a boy, he’d be my dream guy.

I’m also polly, so on the Internet I’m a ‘faggot cuck’

I promise tomorrow I will discuss the polly aspect of my sexuality in ore detail, for now just know I’m just complicated.

Ok so, how do I convay any of that on Grindr? I can’t. I want to have a conversation. You cannot say that because it starts ‘hey’ then it’s just dick pics or boring, predictable bullshit.

I had a big realization. I’m a fucking jerk. I’ve been chatting online for decades and have treated the majority as badly as these guys treated me. Not that I sent dick pics, but if they didn’t do what I wanted I wasn’t nice or polite. Often I wouldn’t read their info well. I dunno. I felt pretty bad being ignored and hit on cause apparently I’m adorable?

...fat piece of shit.

The REALLY cute girls on grindr were a minimum 100 miles away. None want to do a long distant thing, which is really what I want right now. And frankly the guys I want to meet are girls. And I know I’m queer because the other day I said, ‘That cock is adorable’ and that is not what a straight man says.

I feel a lot better saying all that. Let’s talk about my favorite game I need to quit.

I Can Spot A Catfish A Mile Away After Two Full Days Of Talking Out Loud

I was playing League and I out of no where got a friend request. I take all of these, usually remembering them from a recent game. Not this time. First thing ‘she’ said was “I always get call a catfish” DOT DOT DOT

This ‘girl’ played well, we chatted in game, ‘she’ was REALLY flirty and I bought ‘her’ many skins in game, maybe 50$ worth? Can’t remember for my embarrassment's sake. I begged this person to talk to me face to face on skype and they made it into a fight every time. So I cut it off.

This happened to me recently. This person refused to talk to me while we played games (me out loud into my headset, and ‘she’ replying in chat). Every hour I begged this person to talk to me in anyway. At first they told me they only spoke Japanese and ‘she’ was embarrassed about the language, ‘she’ understood me too well for that, think I literally said, ‘What are you Chewbacca?’

I basically just talked. They replied and were REALLY needy. I mentioned skins at last and they changed how they talked a lot but then suddenly, this person couldn’t talked to me because of childhood tongue biting induced tongue paralysis. Also their name was Soka Hui? Apparently?

They told me their family was massacred. Like RECENTLY. So I looked it up:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/the-wolf-family-murders-north-dakotas-most-brutal_us_57fbe48ae4b0b665ad818798

That’s scary tho if that person recorded me.

I Fell in Love With a Guy

I did not want to. I could hear the mocking voices of my brothers from my childhood, the ghosts of my high school, the word ‘faggot’ as anything but gross, not something that turned me on. Not something I whispered to a guy, begging me to...he didn’t love me. He sounded really fucking pretty when he said I love you. He said my name so beautifully the echo of it makes me cry as I write this now.

I would have called him a fucking faggot in 1997 and been angry. Might have gotten violent.

Now I wish Dexter would just say anything, perched in my lap and...

Well it’s stupid to dwell on things. I learned a lesson. The lesson here is ‘you can’t win, but always try.’

Here’s why: I did everything right, this is how Meghan and I began. Dexter and I have talked on and off for months. For about 8...maybe a year. Dexter was my dirty little secret.

He called me and moaned and we...you know whatever, but always behind Heather’s back (she knows now). I hated to admit that guy was really...

Well he got a hold of me at the beginning of the week.

He told me that he wanted me to make love to him, say ‘I love you’ to me on his boyfriend’s bed. I took this too mean he wanted me to be in love so...we talked.

We talked for an hour and I was so in love. He was interesting and funny. He had comedy bits memorized. He loves Star Wars.I wanted to keep talking. I thought we’d at lest text later.

I wanted to Love Star Wars with him. I wanted to meet him and do whatever he wanted. He cut off the call...I should have known an hour was kind of short compared to girls I had talked to in the past.

I didn’t hear from him for 3 days.

I had all this confused love in me. I barfed it all up. He was masturbating. Trying to get me to talk about sex and I was stammering and nervous and near crying. I told he was my first guy...the guy I was in love with, for real and he cut me off. There was a really hard to describe, painful, awkward silence.

I flashed back to all the folder of evidence I had that he loved me, the saw the mountain of facts that said he was just getting off to me using him. Or...something. We haven’t spoken since.

I told him ‘I have a lot of cosplay ideas’ and he laughed.

He said he had to go and I said ok. He said ‘Talk to y-’ but I hung up and threw the phone. Cried. Last my game of League. Told Heather and Meghan. Cried in the shower.

I told Meghan and Heather about this guy throughout the three days he went silent. Meghan has a number of really hot ideas involving some third male person. Heather is asexual but really really like the idea of live yaoi.

Dexy...Dexter hurt me, really badly. I tried anything for a few days to distract myself, the catfish, grindr, other guys I know from chat rooms. I over bared myself to them when I could just do that here and link it.

That leads me to:

If We Got Married No One Would Have to Change Their Last Names, Cartoonist Who Draws Like Me, Puppeteer Who Made a Way Better Puppet Than Me and I Love It and Other Reason Why I Might Be In Love With Isabella Bunny Bennett

A long time ago. And right now I’m pausing to see if I can find the thing...

Ok as far as I know it’s gone? Maybe I can get it from Linkara’s title card artist.

He and I interviewed Isabella back when she in the long ago times and it was one of the all time best conversations I had ever had in my life. She is bright and funny and clever and i’m crying again, what the...Ok I came back in twenty minutes later to fix this mess. I did start crying a little. It’s hard to remember it all but Bunny was so natural, we finished each other’s thoughts. I really wanted to talk forever. She’s so...shit literally crying...

This was a very long time ago, John was still in the band.I lost track and my internet presence took a nose dive. That will get many blogs.

Her twitter posts recently (Sept’17) are really lining up with how I feel.The normal places I thought I could meet someone online, are failing me. It’s frustrating, but I can do one thing at least. Flirt with Isabella. I flirt with art:

I got no context for this guy at the bottom...he didn’t get my context clearly.

Anyway

...

.....

...in the song Burning in the Stratosphere she makes a kissy noise and says...’I love you’ but at the beginning in a near whisper...chills. I wasn’t expecting it, really hadn’t visited the album it’s on til tonight.

I hope to talk more about Isabella in the future. I’m a chaos magician, so it’s likely to happen.

#bisexual #bi #puppet #cartoon #cartoonist #crushes #love

2 notes · View notes

discogs · 7 years

Text

bringing life to the should-be-alive: the best covers of classic songs - a list

in some's musical careers, an artists first and sometimes only hit will be a cover. for the dexys midnight runners, one of their first hits was a magnificent cover of van morrison's 1972 track 'jackie wilson said (i'm in heaven when you smile),' for others they don't get such a fantastic rep (see alien ant farm's dismal cover of michael jackson's 1987 hit 'smooth criminal'). a cover version should be a new take, a different take on a classic or lesser known track. it should revive what it's covering and bring to the table what the song had initially lacked. the main key to a good cover is revival and creativity, something that a lot of artists fall short on.

below is a short list of covers that do exactly this, therefore making them not only unique to the artist but also giving the songs a new kind of life.

1. robyn hitchcock: the ghost in you (2014) the psychedelic furs: the ghost in you (1984)

robyn hitchcock, the eclectic uplifting ex-frontman of the legendary proto-punk band 'the soft boys' has often left followers of his floored by his innovative music and bursts of uniqueness. as one of the most distinguished vocalists of his time (standing along side the likes of jonathan richman and tom verlaine within his genre), he has brought more than enough to the table than we could have ever asked for. however, in his recent 2014 record 'the man upstairs,' hitchcock opted for an all-cover, all-acoustic album. this record has many brilliant covers on it including a slightly more erotic version of roxy music's 'to turn you on,' and a lighter version of the doors' 'the crystal ship.' yet the most outstanding track on this album is the opening track, a soft, careful cover of the psychedelic furs' 1984 single 'the ghost in you.' while the original is riddled with a quaint main synth riff and choir-like backing vocals in the chorus, is it contrasted heavily by richard butler's almost monotonous bowie-esque vocals. it's a beautiful sweeping song of love and confusion that is very much of it time. but at many times it seems as though it comes on too strong for such a sad topic. some times contrasts like that can be good, but in this song - despite its undeniable genius - it almost feels as though the sentiment is lost in the power of the execution. in hitchcock's version, the gentle guitar immediately strikes a sense of concern. it plays almost idle, as though the notes themselves are twiddling their thumbs. not soon after the initial impression we are kindly met by robyn's iconic voice gently brushing over iconic lyrics such as 'falling over you is the news of the day,' 'stars come down in you,' 'ain't it just like rain?' and potentially the most impactful his loving delivery of the repetition of the word 'love' in the latter half of the second verse. robyn's voice suits the cotton-soft emotion of the lyrics and gives them the life they deserve. his version is very much like the first chirping of birds in the morning, like sunshine warming your face after a long winter, which is exactly what the song needed - some love.

2. bauhaus: ziggy stardust (1982) david bowie: ziggy stardust (1972)

i have no need to tell you of the grand impact of david bowie's 1972 record 'rise and fall of ziggy stardust and the spiders from mars.' if you're reading this, you know. in the context of the conceptual album, the song sings sadly. it is a tale of a being who lost his head in the midst of fame and fortune with allusions to abandonment by friends, very similar to the exile and death of rolling stone's founder brian jones. it chronicles the career of well endowed superstar from mars, who falls victim to the human ego he had been trying to dismantle by starting a musical career to begin with. perhaps its due to the deficiency of proper effects for the time that the song lacks a certain passion that you swear oughta be there. the genius guitar of mick ronson has all the indications of a grand performance, however it stays trapped in mono. even bowie's vocals feel muted, where's the hype? where's the chaos of ziggy's career? has the beer light gone out? it wasn't until bowie devotee peter murphy came along in 1982 with his ground breaking band of bauhaus that the song was given the life it deserved. murphy has a knack for impersonating bowie, but in his time to completely replicate bowie, he instead displays his own personally unique voice. daniel ash's constant stream of guitar is relentless, we are never released from the excitement of this track. even the verses, which were originally quiet, have the same electric energy in them. every beginning of a chorus is kicked off with kevin haskin's quick and powerful drumming, and murphy's vocals split through the revolutionary song of demise like a knife. the beer light has been switched on, the triumph of a hero has been brought to life. the cover gives the original all that bowie had been aiming for - excitement, energy, chaos, rile, all of it. it transforms the song into the true anthem it was meant to be, filled with spinning turmoil and a constant 'in your face' attitude, the song ends with the last cry of '... ziggy played guitar' as a drum roll and screeching guitar leaves us breathless in the midst of it's product.

3. marching church: dark end of the street (2015) percy sledge: dark end of the street (1967)

percy sledge's 'dark end of the street' is the exact kind of forbidden love song you can imagine your high school sweetheart and you dancing to haphazardly with faces flushed red with love. it echoes of 'earth angel,' in many ways, making the aspect of the love the two shared being wrong even more powerful. throughout the entire track, the wedding-like backing vocals and instrumentation remind us that this is a doomed romance. and though sledge's voice conveys a level of longing that is necessary for the subject, the darkness of the street the two lovers meet on is lost on the track. the mentioned darkness that hides their wrongs is not expressed in the sorrow filled song, a love that is described as a sin seems too sweet still. in a way, the impending end is polished over by sentimentality. danish lead singer of well known bands such as iceage and vår, however, does not let the grim fate of this love affair slip from his grips. book ending a triumphant debut record, elias rønnenfelt whispers the lyrics once belted as though speaking directly to his lover through a vinyl record. the version is quiet, the depth of the blackness of shadows conveys through a bass line that is every present in the song. the background samples of cars passing, faint doors closing, subtle drums, percussion that reminds one of footsteps from a rickety second story. the covers conveys all the forbidden mischief of two unfortunately lovestruck individuals. you can picture yourself at the end of the street, whimpering cries of adoration to your lover in secret. rønnenfelt sounds pained, worried, paranoid, even, about the potential to be caught. and the hum of the saxaphone through the rain near the end of the song brings about a flood of remorse for two lovers caught in an inescapable situation. all the once glossed over despair is on full, withering display here, for all the ear to heard.

4. rowland s. howard + lydia lunch: some velvet morning (1982) lee hazelwood + nancy sinatra: some velvet morning (1969)

perhaps one of the most renowned lyricists of all time, lee hazelwood meets one of the most iconic faces and voices of all time - nancy sinatra. in a violin ridden song he sings of phaedra, a love, perhaps a vice. the music itself strings together the twos contrasting vocals like velvet, the song is smooth in its polarities. while sinatra sings her part with a voice like a fairy, hazelwood delivers his end with a heavy western-like atmosphere similar to many of his previous works. a thick, heavy bass follows him, while the chiming of bells trails behind sinatra like a long wedding dress. the song shifts from one side to the other wise ease, missing a mark that should have been met with the spontaneity of the shifts in vocals. though it does swing you from side to side, it does so with the casualness of a rocking chair outside on your front porch. at times, you wonder if these voices are too sophisticated for this task. there is a pleasant glaze over the song which diminishes the contrast. and much like david bowie's 'ziggy stardust,' we don't properly experience the chaos that is meant to be depicted. now, when this track is tossed over to life-long hazelwood lover and notorious wielder of uncontrollable guitar rowland s. howard and new york city's own queen of no wave and dismantlement lydia lunch - we get a very, very different take. instead of a rocking chair being moved by the wind, we get a madly swinging pendulumn unsure of which fate is to come. though we are introduced with similar heavy bass, the speed immediately picks up and howard's snarling vocals tear into the song with a sense of sarcasm - very different from the original sense of genuineness. lunch's end is met with the sound of an out of tune music box, with a voice that compliments the unconventionality of the music. as howard drawls on his verses, he delivers the name of 'phaedra' with a sense of animosity for the pain she causes him. and though lunch maintains the innocent sound, the underlying trickery is evident in her voice. here, all is revealed. there are no closed doors. the shift from one end to the other is abrupt, startling, and begins to feel like a direct argument unfolding before your eyes. the aladdin sane like piano near the end of the track takes us into a rabbit hole of confusion and emotional turmoil; a logical conclusion to a disagreement we had the misfortune of stumbling upon. the conflict between the two narrators is very evident in this version, as to where in the original it seemed much more like an innocent misunderstanding, here we see the raw bones of it. this wasn't a simple mistake, this was a downright shoot-em-up, and who better to depict this but two musicians with the same rawness and ferocity of a blood and guts western?

- LM

#lists

4 notes · View notes