apparently it's official.

[cimorene]

see below.

after this picture and some more to follow, i got so very tired of responding to 'your girlfriend is cute' that i started saying 'yes' instead of 'well, ACTUALLY, she's not....'

had a number of surreal conversations. you know,

person: are you tired/dead/angry with me?
me: no, but i just got my goth pictures back and i'm trying to straighten them out.

so a number of people wound up looking at them.

the ex's best friend said, 'your girlfriend is hot!'

cim: i'm wax's princess; she's not my girlfriend (this is an obscure reference to my favorite book, dealing with dragons, and is something that princess-cimorene-my-namesake actually says. don't worry; he's read it.)

so then pechebaie, and then (!!??) the little BROTHER of the ex's bf, who... stole my sn from his brother's computer? like i said. surreal. do i remember all the other people, even? was southpaw526 there, or had she left already? at any rate, by this time it was:

little bro: your gf is hot.
me: well actually it's--. yes. she is.

Comments

[strangelette.livejournal.com]

You're aware that the two of you really are too adorable for words, right? Like, if I tried my thesaurus would just up and explode due to the sheer futility of the effort : )

[cimness.livejournal.com]

heh. :)

[fuschia.livejournal.com]

Woo! Followed a few links here -- just moved from Ann Arbor, where I used to see Devon a lot. Had to say, what a lusciously decadent group you all made!

Hehe. Thanks also for that gratuitous pic of shirtless! Jeff, as that boy's naked torso has long driven me to distraction. Slasher mind always at work...

Love,

Fuschia

[cimness.livejournal.com]

AND he has no idea.

jeff: ::bending over to cut his hair::
drunk!waxlet and drunk!devon: ::staring at his ass, giggling insanely::
jeff: what?
devon: nothing.
wax: nothing.

TOTALLY clueless.

hee.

jeff: and i've been working out and so--
wax: ::leering:: i can see that.
jeff: huh?

::giggle::

[fuschia.livejournal.com]

Heeheehee!

I know...the cluelessness adds to the charm, really. I was over at Devon's on a very hot night, watching "Oz", and J. comes in, sits down next to me, sweaty from running, and just whips his shirt off. Meanwhile, I have to excuse myself and go to the kitchen so that I don't give in to the impulse to lick the sweat off of his abs.

Maybe it's too much slash in my life or something. I'm always wanting to slash D. and his housemates. ;)

Fuschia