Folding Fitted Sheets

I had a dream about angels last night. Or like this morning depending on your view because I woke up at 3am to give Leeloo her inhaler and this dream happened after that.

So this group of angels had descended to earth on a mission and ended up in a living situation with a bunch of humans. Like they were just roommates with angels. The angels were attempting to carry out inscrutable divine plans but were handicapped by the fact that the world was too much for them.

Every sensory experience was a massive overload to them. One tasted garlic and burst into tears. They could barely function let alone fulfill their purpose on the mortal plane. So one of the roommates came up with a sensory acclimation program for the angels.

Each angel was paired off with a human to attempt some experiences. The humans job was to help them through it. One angel was going to brave the movies. Buttered popcorn was an overwhelming cacophony of sensation. Another wanted to attempt a short walk on the beach. Like, their goals were very modest normal guy stuff.

There was just one problem. All of the human buddies. Desperately. Wanted to fuck their angel. They all wanted the angels to be down with sex acts so bad, they had the major angel hornies and there was no cure. One person successfully seduced their angel and all the other humans lost their shit trying to up their seduction game on these sheltered divine ding dongs who could barely handle the taste of popcorn.

So most of the dream was spent watching people engineer elaborate situations in which they might go to ethereal pound town while the angels blundered around licking frogs and sticking their hands in garbage.

My wife, @foldingfittedsheets gave me my first present of Hanukkah.

The cost of being married to an artist.

I told my wife yesterday that I started with the snake. Then I did the rabbit. They were appalled.

“The rabbit was second?! You had other options, and you chose to make that rabbit?”

I nodded. Then I’d done the giraffe and couldn’t think of another long animal so I googled it and found weasels and went perfect! And drew my wiggly weasel.

My painting went from that to this.

I grew up on a well. I didn’t really know how that made me different than other kids except that when their power went out they could still shower and flush the toilet and I couldn’t.

But the real difference is that well water often has little quirks. It’s fresh and yummy from a hole in the ground, it’s not fancy city water that goes through treatment. That means that it didn’t taste like it could be bottled up right from the tap.

In fact what it meant was it tasted like sulfur. Straight up rank eggs. We had it tested repeatedly and it was totally safe for everything, it just stank. It was just something I accepted without question. The sky was blue and water smelled like a chicken egg you'd missed because the hens had gotten sneaky and it had been slowly rotting in the hot summer sun day by day.

It wasn’t until I got older and had friends sleepover who expected a shower the next day that I really caught on that my water wasn’t what they were used to.

“What’s that smell?” they would ask in disgust.

I’d stick my head in the bathroom and look back at them in puzzlement. “What smell?”

I was completely immune. I’d drink it happily, it was as nothing to me to drink water that tasted like a demon had just pissed it out. My friends all thought I was completely off my rocker.

It wasn’t until years after I’d moved out that I smelled what everyone else did. I went to visit my parents to stay overnight. I turned on the shower and reared back. What was that smell?

City life had made me soft. I did not want a stinky egg shower anymore.

My painting went from that to this.

I grew up on a well. I didn’t really know how that made me different than other kids except that when their power went out they could still shower and flush the toilet and I couldn’t.

But the real difference is that well water often has little quirks. It’s fresh and yummy from a hole in the ground, it’s not fancy city water that goes through treatment. That means that it didn’t taste like it could be bottled up right from the tap.

In fact what it meant was it tasted like sulfur. Straight up rank eggs. We had it tested repeatedly and it was totally safe for everything, it just stank. It was just something I accepted without question. The sky was blue and water smelled like a chicken egg you'd missed because the hens had gotten sneaky and it had been slowly rotting in the hot summer sun day by day.

It wasn’t until I got older and had friends sleepover who expected a shower the next day that I really caught on that my water wasn’t what they were used to.

“What’s that smell?” they would ask in disgust.

I’d stick my head in the bathroom and look back at them in puzzlement. “What smell?”

I was completely immune. I’d drink it happily, it was as nothing to me to drink water that tasted like a demon had just pissed it out. My friends all thought I was completely off my rocker.

It wasn’t until years after I’d moved out that I smelled what everyone else did. I went to visit my parents to stay overnight. I turned on the shower and reared back. What was that smell?

City life had made me soft. I did not want a stinky egg shower anymore.

It is complete! The new and improved Ghibli tile design is ready in time for the holidays! You can find it on all manner of things at my Redbubble.

I've never orgasmed before, i feel pretty broken. i get so so so close and warm but i stop breathing and just get extremely tense

i'm just tired of feeling kind of broken tbh </3

do you have tips for when it gets super warm but breathing is really hard???

You’re definitely not broken, it can be hard especially when you’re really anxious over the result. My advice in this case is stop trying to reach a conclusion. Relax and even try to resist if you feel something building up. Hold onto the sensations as long as you can and if you’re not straining toward that target it can often wash over you without you even trying. There’s also different types of stimulation and erogenous zones to explore. If where you’re working isn’t getting you there try different areas or different combos.

But also as a reminder not being able to orgasm does not mean you’re broken. A lot of people struggle because anatomy is just evolution throwing nerve bundles at a drawing board and then we get to sort through the spaghetti. It’s hard and it takes time. Even into my thirties I’m still finding new things about myself, you’re never done learning and it’s never too late to start.

#ask ffs #sex talk

My wife, @foldingfittedsheets: It's obscene how much salads cost. They're just leaves!

#this was apparently a loaded time for this to pop out of the queue #reblogging with abandon

They’re just leaves!!!

Hello, I am looking to buy a ring to ask my boyfriend to marry me with. I do know his exact ring size and also preferences to jewellery. I found a ring I think he'll love online. It is made of tungsten carbide and gold

I've read that rose gold can't be resized. Is that true? And do you think it'll be an issue?

Tungsten absolutely cannot be resized. Rose gold CAN. So that's always the danger with non-sizeable rings, you might present the wrong size or their size might change. A lot of guys like the dark metal but get heartbroken when they can't wear their ring anymore because we're organic matter and we change.

#ask ffs #gem talk

It is complete! The new and improved Ghibli tile design is ready in time for the holidays! You can find it on all manner of things at my Redbubble.

My wife, @foldingfittedsheets: It's obscene how much salads cost. They're just leaves!

They’re just leaves!!!

A friend is talking about starting a mail club for art and such. It made me think that might be something I could do to, any interest in such a thing?

#ramblies

Slut.

When my beloved and I were first dating they were living with roommates comprised of another couple and a solo person. One day we were all lounging around together and I offhandedly made a sex joke about eating pineapple.

The other couple paused and asked for clarification. I waved a hand, “You know, how eating a lot of pineapple is supposed to make your bodily fluids taste sweeter?”

They did not know.

But after that moment empty cans of pineapple were everywhere, appearing as if by magic. We didn’t notice the pattern at first but eventually started to clock that the daily detritus suddenly included a lot more pineapple than it had before.

I’m sure they were only interested for scientific purposes but a study was never published.

For me, the best possible addition to any breakfast sandwich is goat cheese.

There’s a local bakery we go to that makes great sandwiches, breakfast or otherwise. But my ability to order goat cheese on my food is entirely dependent on how nice the person taking my order is.

One time when I asked they said, “We don’t have goat cheese.”

“Uhm. But you have a goat cheese salad…”

“Oh! Then yeah, you can totally get that.”

Another time the woman looked at me with flat dead eyes and just said, “No.”

Today I was scoping out the menu and deciding what I wanted. I looked at the cashier and made a quiet sound of victory while whispering to my wife, “She looks like someone who will let me order goat cheese.”

Blessings on my house; she did.