The burning bed like Farrah Fawcett

Last night the sex was so hot that my pillow caught on fire. Or maybe the candles on the night stand were just too close to the bed. And technically it happened right after sex. Two things amuse me about the incident.

1) dommeyourass claims to have a high pain tolerance and I am the swussy masochist (though getting better!), but when the corner of the pillow had a five inch flames shooting off of it, I reached over without much fear and beat/smothered it out with my bare hand, while she froze and declared "oh my god" several times. Of course, this has less to do with pain play and more to do with adrenaline and me having pretty good instincts in an emergency. Remarkably enough, I didn't hurt myself.

2) She then proceeded to throw away the pillow case. I was going to sleep on it! Sure, the corner was a little brown and crispy and had a hole, but who sleeps on the corner of a pillow? I reluctantly let it go and replaced the sheet.

At this time, I'm behind schedule when it comes to showering and household activites to accomplish before going out and braving the crowds of Hasted Market Days. I wouldn't be going if it wasn't for vfc who will not only protect me but will also keep me company. I realized it's not so much that I'm a homebody, it's just I often hate the general public and most social activites said public engages in. I guess really I'm not agoraphobic, just a snob.

Let me say a few words about Marilyn Monroe: she was born Norma Jean Baker....

The amount of alone-time I'm needing these past couple days is ridiculous. I'm not sure what brought this mood on though I'm not fighting it. I've managed to make contact with a few people anyway, which is good and keeping me balanced, even if I'm not necessarily in my most social mindset and probably somewhat spacey when out.

i leaned over and
whispered in your ear, she's sexy
but that's not why.

( haiku what? )