Blog Tour! Introducing: Lacie Grayson

Guys, this is a new one for me. I am very excited.
May I have the pleasure of introducing you to one of my twitter friends, Lacie Grayson, known on twitter as @fkmuse. She also has a tumblr account, full of raunchy awesomeness, that you should totally check out.
Lacie has asked me to "host" her on her blog tour! She's promoting her new work, already available on Amazon for only .99 cents. I'd click on that link if I were you. But if you want a taste for the meat of it first, read on: there's an excerpt right here.


Excerpt from Lacie Grayson's new story, Bad Juju
I was pacing around my room. I couldn’t seem to still, so this was my
only option. Well, this or go pace in the living room and my roommates
would most likely love this job. Therefore being where they could hear
and beg me to take it did not sound like a good idea.

“I told you before, I’m not interested.” I said trying to stay sounding polite.
“If it’s a question of money Ms. Shimshi my boss is offering a healthy
sum.” The woman continued on still sounding way too chipper.
“It’s not about the money, it’s about what you’re asking me to do.”
“It is just a book.” She said flatly yet some how maintaining her cheery tone.
“Then hire a librarian, I’m not qualified.” I said hanging up before
she could say anything else. It didn’t matter someone else would call
again.
I curled up on my bed still holding my phone, half hoping it would
ring. I was trying to will it to ring. Not that I had anyone is mind
to talk to really I just wanted to talk.
Instead I grabbed my trusty laptop and decided to do a little
research. Twenty minutes later I had all the tastiest bits of
information. Which still left me completely puzzled. I had no media
buzz, no television show, so how did he know I existed?

The man looking to hire me was a tech mogul. He not only programmed
some of my favorite software, he was also behind some of the biggest
sites on the web today. So, why would he want me? The answer was
clear, he was very New Age, his business practices of using tarot
readers has been laughed at by nearly every other CEO. Got to love old
money, if it’s not our way it’s silly. One look at his net worth had
to show he was doing something right.

Still, the whole proposal smacked of Hilter wanting to and ultimately
trying to win World War Two with the Occult. Jared Barnes wanted me an
unglamorous college going medium and all purposes aside slacker to
find him the Necronomicon. Part of me wanted to be snarky and send him
Simon’s Neronomicon but, my mother raised me with manners.

Why me?

I’m Lux Shimshi and I’m a lightning rod for the paranormal and while
it’s interesting, sometimes I wish I’d just been ordinary. See, I’m a
mermaid, who’s also a medium, and lately very popular. I’m 22 years
old and going to college, working most nights at Coffin Candy’s a
strip club as a DJ. When I’m not doing that I’m usually on a ghost
hunt with ORACLE my roommate’s paranormal group.

It wasn’t me specifically Barnes wanted, he probably knew my father’s
passion was that book. The last fully Japanese Merman Toru Shimshi,
leader of the biggest Merfaction died looking for that book.

I was my father’s daughter.

Part of me wanted to call Daniel, my twin, but it was late and knowing
him he had 3 or 5 house guests. Best not to wake them, I’d call in the
morning. Something told me the icky feeling wouldn’t go away anytime
soon.

Curling up into a ball tighter, I knew exactly what I needed, and
where to get it. Soon I was relaxed and I slipped into a crack.
Upside, I was left standing in front of a bar. Instinctively I knew
he’d be here. I followed them through the crush of people making my
way to the back corner table. Where he sat in his usual unshaven dirty
but just enough to be sexy. I still catch myself wondering how he
managed to pull it off.
I slipped into the booth across from him.
“Hello.” He said softly not yet looking up from his paper.
“Hey Jack.” I said softly smiling.
“I’m not going to help you find it, so don’t bother asking.”
“Can’t a friend just drop in to say hello?”
“Not the kind of friend you are and the kind of dropping in you do.
That’s my final answer. You don’t want anything to do with this. Just
let it go and walk away,” he said as he pulled a pack of cigarettes
out of his pocket, shifting them around a little.
“You just don’t understand.” I started to say, but stopped, seeing him
glare at me.
“I don’t understand? Girl, you’re looking for what is, in your world,
reputed to be the source and cause of a great deal of the world’s
suffering. Not only that, but you’re going to take it back, through
the divide, into a world that it was never meant to exist for real in
under any stretch of the imagination. You’re going to do all of this,
and you still have the stones to say I don’t understand that you feel
you have something to prove for this little bit of insanity, yeah, I
guess I don’t understand then,” he said, fidgeting with his lighter.
His ability to make a person feel only a few inches tall never ceased
to amaze me as I stared at him, trying to regain my composure.
Something shook deep in my core as he started again.
“What I do understand, however, is the burning need to find something
you know you better damn well leave alone. That’s normal in our line
of work. Hell, I’d be even more worried if you hadn’t taken the job.”
He lit a cigarette.
“I haven’t taken it…yet.” I said stammering. I felt myself flicker.
See in Jack’s world I was not corporeal. I was like a ghost, with out
that icky being dead part.
“Yes, you have. I can see it in those beautiful translucent eyes of yours,.”
“Charmer but, no I haven’t.”
He only smiled as he took a long drag on his cigarette, the smoke
trailing upwards. “Right. Anyways, I’ll see what I can find. I know
some people who know some people who get their jollies over rare,
human-leather bound tomes that could bring around the destruction of
all life as we know it,” he said with a smirk, blowing a stream of
smoke through me.
He liked reminding me why we’d never go for dinner and a movie. He was
a bastard but I loved him. Part of me still held out hope I’d find a
better opening to Hollow Earth. As I sat there, he stood up and rifled
through his wallet.
“Got change for a twenty,” he asked with a smirk before dropping a
couple bills onto the table. “Come on. I gotta see a man about a
horse.”
“A man…about a, what?” I asked, following a little behind. Not only
was he a scruffy bastard who felt he knew more than everyone else, he
was a scruffy bastard who felt he knew more than anyone else that
seemed desperate to confuse the living hell out of a girl.
“It’s a saying. You have them on your side too, don’t you?” His grin
was starting to wear thin on my nerves.
“Yeah, but…”
“Alright then,” he cut me off as we turned down one of the alleys for
a moment before he stopped and flicked his cigarette away. “This
should be about good.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m a little tired of this intangibility thing,” he said, shrugging a
little bit before pulling a flask out of his pocket and handing it to
me. The contents smelled like someone distilled a sewage treatment
plant and packed it into a hunk of tin.
I resisted my gag reflex, “What is this?”
“Just a little something I whipped up for your next visit. Though, I
wasn’t expecting you to drop by so soon. Did you miss me that much?”
“Maybe a little, but you know this is just business, Jack. That’s
all,” I said with a dismissive smirk. The whole intangibility thing
started to rear its ugly head again.
“Yeah. I know, you just keep forgetting about things. It’s okay.
You’re not all here. Yet. Drink this.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am. Now, do you want my help or not?”
He had me in a bind at that. There was a lot that he could do in his
world that I couldn’t do in mine. Even if his noxious brew had any
effect it would probably help find that cursed book. That, and he was
kind of cute in that bossy sort of way. I decided to throw caution to
the wind and focused myself. Reaching things past the divide was hard
enough, but actually ingesting something, especially something as foul
smelling as the thing Jack was handing me, that was a different story
altogether.
Slowly, my hand started to take on a more solid form and I grasped the
flask, tossing it back quickly so I wouldn’t lose my tangibility or my
nerve in the same fell swoop. A wave of nausea rushed over me and I
fell back against the wall of the alley. I felt dizzy, so I steadied
myself with the wall.
“You son of a bitch,” I said, gasping between breaths. “That was awful.”
“Right. Awful, but look,” he said as he pointed at my hand against the
wall. I hadn’t even noticed prior, the rough texture of the brick
against my skin.
I was solid. The snarky bastard was right.
“How? I mean, why? What?”
“Eloquent as always Lux. Unfortunately, we don’t have that much time.
It only lasts a couple hours at best and the ingredients are a bit
sparse,” he said with a smirk, pressing me back up against the wall.
“Shouldn’t we go look for the book?” I asked, blushing at the
closeness of his body. He had a smell that I couldn’t shake, it was
like nature and tobacco.
His hand slid around and cupped my ass. “I’ve got a friend looking
into it. Don’t worry,” he said before starting to kiss my neck, his
hips pressed against mine.
I gasped, clutching him towards me, leaning up to kiss him deeply. I
had wanted to do that for as long as I could remember, but all I could
think of was someone walking down the alley. “What if someone sees
us?”
“Nobody will see us.”
“More…magic?” I asked, swallowing a mouthful of air as he started to
caress my breasts.
“No,” he grinned as he answered, his fingers pulling at my clothes
quickly. “Nobody really comes down this alley. It has a reputation.”
“How romantic,” I said, gasping.
“It’s not like we’ll get to do this often,” he said, his voice husky
as he pushed me back up against the wall. We were like wild animals
digging our fingers like claws against each other trying to move bits
of clothing to expose each other and take advantage of the time we
could have together. I fumbled with his zipper for a moment before he
pinned my hand back against the wall to do the deed himself.
I bit my lip watching, my heart pounded, my panties were soaking. Jack
always had that effect on me. It was really such a shame we did not
live on the same plane of existence. Jack pulled back his pants off
his hips, his cock was absolutely rigid and thick just how I liked it.
Of course that might be because I’d lost my astral virginity to him.
My physical virginity was lost just a few months ago. To a guy I met
that night. Bad, I know. Worse, he was vying to be my boyfriend.

Here. Now. I forgot all of my normal life and just wanted to be Jack’s
fucktoy. He knew it too. He grinned as he pressed the thick, swollen
tip of his shaft against my hungry pussy.

He slid into me and it was fast and sudden, better than all the other
times. It was like going from mono to stereo. I could measure the
difference but, all I could do was moan and wrap my legs around him.
“Luxie, you are such a naughty girl.” Jack whispered in my ear before
thrusting up inside me again.
My answer came in the form of a well placed bite on Jackʻs shoulder.
He tasted faintly of Cinnamon above the taste of skin. I moaned
licking along his flesh.
“Keep that up, I will put you on your knees.” He said with a growl.
“Then I might never get to finish fucking your pussy.
Pulled back with a needy moan pushing my hips out driving him deep
inside me. My thoughts raced, I wanted him inside my mouth, I wanted
him doggie style. My deepest erotic daydreams were flooding every
thought. Jackʻs cock pumped in and out of me. My brainʻs pleasure
center was on overload.
“Fuck me.” I said throwing myself against the brick wall scraping my back.
“What do you think Iʻm doing? I ainʻt whistling Dixie”
Great, he could be snarky and make me orgasm. My thighs started to
twitch and shake. I squeezed him harder and my hips jerked me into his
chest.
Jack reached down and slapped my ass, and I moaned as my orgasm
finally broke leaving me panting and grasping at Jack like a flood
survivor.
He just groaned and fucked me harder fighting my pussy until he
finally couldnʻt stop. His nails dug in my ass, prompting a miniature
orgasmic aftershock.
“Damn it Lux, I do love you.”
“I know Jack.” I whispered against his lips I could not resist it. So,
I kissed him. His mouth tasted of cigarette smoke, and I didnʻt care.
I needed him.

We held each other breathlessly for a moment before he pulled out of
me. My legs were wobbly from a combination of the brutal fucking and
being shunted into tangibility. He smiled at me a little as I fumbled
with my clothes, trying to tidy myself up the best I could. After a
cursory sweep of the alley to make sure we hadnʻt forgotten anything,
we were on our way while the solidifying potion was still working.

Waking up after being with Jack always left me drained, but pleasantly
so. He talked me into it. He knew exactly how to do it too: appeal to
my curiosity. Itʻs why I hated him. He could talk me into walking on
water.
As my luck would have it, my cell rang. Half-heartedly stifling a yawn
I answered gruffly, “Hello?”
“Ah, the elusive Lux Shimshi,” said an overly seductive voice. Kind of
like a Siren or bill collector.
“And who are you?” I asked, my voice in an automatic purr.
“Jared Barnes,” he said almost like a declaration. The shock of the
name that I wasnʻt expecting to be on the other end of the phone so
early in the morning bolted me upright.
“How fortuitous,” I said.



If you are a writer, and would like me to host you on my blog, please feel free to email me. 

Remittance Girl's Writing Challenge

Over on her blog, Remittance Girl has a writing challenge going on: take one scene, and write it up in two different versions, one vanilla, one kinky. I decided to pick up the gauntlet. Of course, my scene includes anal sex. 

Version One: Vanilla

She heard the knob on the door click and twist a second before his wide frame filled the doorway, blocking out the light from the hallway. She lifted her eyes, and peered at him as he entered the room. He looked tired, a bit worn out from a hard day, but relieved to be home, and happy to see her.

She wondered how much of her he could really see. The lights were dim, only half aglow, casting a cozy spell on the room that enveloped them in quiet intimacy. She was naked on the bed, warm and waiting. His eyes raked over her body.

“You’ve been waiting for me?” He asked.

“Yes,” she said, smiling.

“Good,” he answered, smiling back. She melted, seeing his smile, and relaxed her head into the pillow. His smile always set her at ease, making her feel safe, and sure of her surroundings. She stretched across the sheets in soft repose, knowing full well she was turning him on.

He began to strip away his clothes, but with some difficulty; he was unable to take his eyes off her naked body. Her grin widened, watching his clumsiness. Finally, he was as naked as she, and he climbed on top of the bed to join her.

He climbed on top of her naked body, careful not to crush her with his weight, and began to caress and stroke her ivory skin. She moaned and hugged him to her as he worshipped her porcelain flesh with soft kisses and tender strokes. His lovemaking always began like this, soft and slow, like a haunting melody played on a fine tuned instrument that filled her with warmth, love, and sometimes, pangs of sorrow.

“I think, tonight...?” He asked, lifting his brows.

“Mmm.” She narrowed her eyes, giving him a heady seductive look. If he hadn’t of asked, she would have suggested it. But she was happy he had asked.

He gave her a nod of understanding, grinning boyishly. Then, he opened the bedside table drawer, and pulled out the lube.

“Ass up,” he said. His voice was high, playful, and a bit unsure. “Spread your legs a little wider? And put your head down...God, you have such a beautiful ass.”

He trailed a gentle palm down her thigh, and she sank her face into the mattress, feeling her body go limp and languid. His finger rubbed circles around her asshole, gentle and relaxed, and she let out a breathy sigh, settling in. When his finger entered her, carefully probing, she didn’t move, but let his finger slide in, enjoying the delicious thrill.

His finger withdrew just as slowly as it had entered, and she mewled from its careful withdrawal.

The mattress shifted, and she knew he was taking his place behind her. A second later, she felt the tip of his cock press against her glistening asshole.

He spread her cheeks open with his hands as he pressed forward, trying not to go too fast, trying not to hurt her. But the sensations were just too much for her, and she gasped.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said full of worry.

“I will,” she said, trying to reassure him. His cock slid in, inch by inch, and he held her by the hips, steadying her with his wide hands. At last, he was all the way in, and she moaned in pleasure.

He fucked her with even, measured thrusts, gradually building up the tempo in cadence with her cries of delight. He leaned into her, giving her his weight the way he knew she liked it, and she groaned and shivered in ecstasy.

She squeezed the sheet in both her fists, feeling him fill her over and over again, unable to control the rising wave of pleasure building up inside.

“Oh God, I’m going to--I’m going to--” She pushed back into him, filling herself with his cock. He took this as his cue to ram into her, letting go of his own need. As they rocked against each other, timing their thrusts, they moved back and forth, in and out, two bodies creating one form that casted dusky shadows across the walls of their sheltered hideaway.

They came together, driven to satisfy each other’s need. As their cries coalesced and faded together, they continued to move until they were sure the other was done, only tiny aftershocks still wracking their frames. Then they collapsed on the bed, side by side, tranquil and sated.

“Thank you, David,” she said, her voice full of warmth and love for the man she called her husband. She curled into his body, snuggling in, and he put his arm around her to hold her close.

“Give me a few minutes, and we’ll do this again,” he said. She looked into his face: his eyes were full of playful mischief. She laughed and nuzzled his neck. Then she fell asleep in his cradling arms.

 Version Two: Kinky

She heard the knob on the door click and twist a second before his wide frame filled the doorway, blocking out the light from the hallway. She lifted her eyes, glancing at him as he entered the room, but not too directly. He looked slightly worn, harried, yet satisfied with her presence, and the way she had presented herself as ordered.

She was naked on the bed, waiting for his arrival. The lights were dim, only half aglow, casting a unnerving and ominous setting, like the dark corners of the dungeon he often brought her to. His eyes raked over her body.

“You’ve been waiting for me,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Some of the tension left her body: he was pleased with the way she had behaved, at least so far. She stretched across the sheets, giving him access for a full inspection.

He began to strip away his clothes with nimble fingers, never taking his eyes off her naked body. She shivered under his scrutiny, hoping what he saw aroused him as much as he aroused her, hoping tonight, he would allow her to come.

He climbed on top of her, crushing her with his weight, and pinned her wrists against the bed as he claimed her flesh with lips and tongue. His lovemaking always began like this, hard and demanding, and his easy control over her body's natural reactions always filled her with wanton deference.

“I think, tonight,” he announced.

“Mmm.” She could not bring herself to say the word that meant she agreed. He did not really need her to agree. She would not defy him. He opened the bedside table drawer and pulled out the lube.

“Ass up. Spread your legs a little wider. And put your head down. God, you have such a beautiful ass.”

The sentiment came out of nowhere, and filled her with delight. His declarations of praises, while rare, were always sincere, and she cherished each one.

He trailed a brazen palm down her thigh, and she sank her face into the mattress, feeling her nervousness grow. His finger rubbed circles around her asshole, brazen and wicked, and she let out a sigh, steadying herself for what was to come. When his finger entered her, roughly probing, she willed herself not to move, but let his finger slide in.

His finger withdrew just as swiftly as it had entered, and she mewled from the aching thrill. The mattress shifted, and she knew he was taking his place behind her. A second later, she felt the tip of his cock press against her glistening asshole.

He spread her cheeks open with his hands as he pressed forward, trying to force her open even further, knowing his attempts would only make her clench tighter. She gasped.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he growled.

“I will,” she promised. His cock slid in, inch by inch, and he held her by the hips, steering her with his wide hands. At last, he was all the way in, and she moaned from the aching fullness.

He fucked her with even, measured thrusts, gradually building up the tempo in time with his rising pleasure and need. He leaned into her, forcing her to take his weight, and she groaned in wanton obedience.

She squeezed the sheet in both her fists, feeling him fill her over and over again, her submission giving way to rising pleasure that she could not control--but he could.

“Oh God, I’m going to--I’m going to--” She pushed back into him, filling herself with his cock, hoping he would allow her what she so desperately wanted, what she needed after all these weeks of denial. He answered her plea by ramming into her, letting go of his own desire. He slammed into her soft body, over and over again, and she tried to meet his thrusts, working hard to claim her own pleasure the only way he would allow.

She came before him, but he continued to move, milking his pleasure out her wracked frame for as long as he could. At last, he came inside her aching asshole, pounding into her, and she came again, her cries mingling with his own. Then they collapsed on the bed, side by side, tranquil and sated.

“Thank you, David,” she said, her voice full of reverence for the man she called her Dom. She curled into his body, snuggling in, and he put his arm around her to hold her close. Their after-sex snuggles were one of the few times she could touch him as she liked, without fear of reprimand.

“Give me a few minutes, and we’ll do this again,” he said. She looked into his face: his eyes were sultry, full of calm conviction and complete control. She shivered and looked away, waiting to be made to submit once again.

But Sometimes, He Can Just Be An Ass

This happened last week. 

Me: Don't mind me. I'm feeling horrible today.
Him: Why? Did something happen?
Me: No. I'm just feeling fat, and ugly, and clumsy, and pathetic.
Him: Why? Is it (whispers) hormones?
Me: Nope. I'm just in a bad mood. I'm entitled.
Him: To what?
Me: To having a bad day now and then.
Him: How many?
Me:...How many what?
Him: How many bad days are you entitled to? Is there a maximum lifetime amount? Cause I don't remember agreeing to this.
Me: (speechless)
Him: I think there should be something written down about how many bad days you get, and we can scratch one off. (Walks away)

So apparently, I only get a certain number of bad days that aren't due to something specific happening or (whispers) hormones, and once my days are used up, I die. Thanks for letting me know, Husband.

Awareness

As a sub, I can tell you I never feel more exhilarated, more alive than when I'm being dominated and controlled. There's a clarity to those moments it's difficult to describe: a certainty that I am here, this is happening, to me and no one else. Usually the clarity depends on the strength and perfection of the sensation. It could be pain, pleasure, fear, humiliation, degradation, or dozens of other responses that hit me in the moment. But if the feeling is pure, unadulterated, and all-consuming, even for one second, then that moment of clarity hits and my mind is taken to a whole different level.

It's those moments I tend to remember the most. They carve little lines into my brain, snippets of memories, images, smells, the way it all felt to be in that moment. And even if it's years later, when I can't remember anymore what exactly Husband did to me that night or how the rest of the scene played out, I can still recapture that moment.

I have a library of them now, stored in my head. Different times, different scenes, all with one thing in common: they took me to that place of consummate awareness.

A time he thrust into my ass without warmup. I was on all fours on the floor, and he came up behind me and lunged so hard, my whole body pushed forward. I cried out, and he pressed his fingers into my hips to steady me. I remember the feeling of his fingers digging into my flesh, his body pressing against mine, and of course, my asshole burning around his cock. I remember the smell of the carpet, the shadow of light on the walls, the way his breath sounded mingled with my cry.

The time he trussed me up on the bed and then left me there, alone. The look he gave me before he left the room; the sound of the door clicking closed. I remember the clinks of the glass as I listened to him pouring himself a drink, the creak of the couch as he sat down, the low murmurs of the TV. Every echo and nuance of sound, intensified by my despair.

The time I walked into the bedroom and found all our toys laid out on the bed. He stood behind it, arms crossed in front of his chest, naked.

I remember the smug, domineering look in his eyes as he said "the bed is for the toys tonight. You'll be on the floor." And just like that, I was reveling in submission.

The time he had me pinned on my back, and pulled my arms all the way out to my sides to expose my breasts. Until that moment, what we had been engaging in had been playful fun; now it took on a whole different tone. I remember the look in his eyes, the calm determined expression on his face as he pulled my arms away. I fought, and I clawed, and finally I began to cry and beg, but he kept pulling...that moment when he lowered his head down to my breast, and all I could do was scream in terror, was one I will never forget.
He bit my nipple, I remember that. It hurt. But the pain, and any marks that were left afterwards, have long since faded from memory. That moment of sheer panic remains, locked in time.

Pain and pleasure fade. Marks and bruises can last a while, by they, too, eventually fade. Memories can last forever. They are the true treasures of time, and I am lucky to have as many as I do.

Nothing to See Here

I realize this post is not the kind you come here expecting to see. You guys click over here to read about kink and BDSM, or to look at pictures depicting something of that nature.
This post won't be about any of that. It won't be edited for content, or proofread, or checked for spelling and grammar mistakes, either. I am in that kind of mood.
The truth is, for the whole month, I have not felt like myself. Which sounds ridiculous, when you think about it. I am myself, and I am feeling, so how can I not feel like myself? Well, cause I just don't, that's why.
Sometimes I feel locked out of my own head, like someone else has taken residence inside my brain and changed the locks on me, and I'm just outside the window with my hands cupping my face to the glass, looking in, yelling 'but that is my space.'
Sometimes I feel locked inside my own head, unable to escape, or even see out, and I'm feeling around the walls like a fucking mime in his box and thinking 'but this place used to have a fucking door, right?'
Sometimes I feel like I'm no one, I'm some kind of automaton, just going through the motions and living day by day...by day...by day.
This all could be because of the stress. I am under a lot of it. We're having financial problems, you see, and if you're one of the vast majority of people in this country having financial problems, you know what the hell I'm talking about when I say it's stressful. I don't have to explain it to you. I can feel the breeze across my keyboard as you're all nodding your heads right now. Yes, it's stressful Shelby. We all know it to be true.
It could be because my entire house was a sickness-infected bio-hazard waste site for over three weeks. I was sick, then two of my kids got sick, then I got sick again while the kid who had been healthy until then decided to join the party, what the hell, and then one of the other kids who had been getting better decided the party simply could not survive without him...you know what the difference is between the analogous party I'm running with here and a real life, honest to god party? Booze. There was no booze at my analogous party. Just lots of hangovers, including some short-term memory loss, thanks to the fevers.
I don't know what's wrong with me. We are all fine now, the viruses/bacteria/germs/bad-joojoo-curse-someone-put-on-us is all gone, but I am still...not myself.
Husband is dealing. He notices, of course. He tries to help. Frankly, he is great at helping, and I think without him, I wouldn't be complaining about something as diddly as "not feeling myself," I'd be...well, let's just say, much worse, and leave it at that.
I have not been going to twitter. I have not been hanging out on Facebook. I have been hiding in my cave.
So there you have it. That is what's going on. I have been possessed, people. I have been taken over by an evil spirit. I need an exorcism.
Anybody out there with a priest fetish got an outfit you can lend me?