𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙰 @trecoolfms - Tumblr Blog

Posts

𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑲 "𝑻𝑹𝑬" 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑰𝑰𝑰 🎂 53 | 👤 𝑴𝑨𝑵 | 🧲 𝑴𝑬𝑵 & 𝑾𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑵 | 📏 5'6" | 📍 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑨 | 🌎 𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑵 | 🍷 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬𝑺 | 🚬 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬𝑺 | 🍃 𝒀𝑬𝑺 | 💊 𝑵𝑶 💼 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑰𝑨𝑵 🔍 𝑭𝑰𝑮𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑴𝒀 𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑮𝑶𝑨𝑳𝑺 Currently figuring out if I want a soulmate, a best friend, or someone who just agrees to get pancakes at 2am. Open to romance, chaos, deep talks, dumb jokes, spontaneous road trips, and platonic soul connections that feel just as electric. Not here for pressure — just vibes, laughter, and whatever weird, wonderful thing unfolds naturally. If we accidentally become best friends or fall in love or start a cult (kidding… mostly), I’m cool with all outcomes.

𝙒𝙚'𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙞𝙛

You're not of a nervous disposition.

You’re emotionally intelligent but still willing to bark at dogs and scream-sing in the car.

Match my chaos but also respect my soft side.

You answer dumb questions seriously and serious questions dumbly.

𝘼 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮

Dogs don’t know what mirrors are and honestly neither do I emotionally.

𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙘 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

What's your favorite unexplained mystery? Everyone is allowed one.

@hollywoodfamerps

𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑴𝑶𝑫𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑫

#hfrpconnect #hfrpconnectfm #hfrpconnectdm

rhseehorn

Rhea’s toothy grin flashed fiercely in the flickering light of the fire pit, her chest silently vibrating against him as she let out a low, chuckle at his groan. "It's probably just a nosy, raccoon..." She briefly licked her bottom lip, her eyes darting out toward the dark mist of the Oregon woods for a fraction of a second before she pulled her attention entirely back to him, deliberately re-adjusting her weight upon his lap. She looked down at the flannel she was wearing, which was currently hanging open and held together by just that single, solitary bottom button. Her fingers, which had been playfully over the fabric of his chest, slid upward to lace firmly behind the nape of his neck again "Well... I'm ready when you are," she teased, a sharp, breathless edge creeping into her voice. "Even if exploring the woods is a classic horror no-no. Personally? I'd much rather be the reckless, preoccupied couple in the corner with their pants down, suddenly screaming before it's too late to notice one of us is covered in blood" she lightly snorted, any lingering concern over the distant creaking of the trees simply faded away. Her eyes locked right back onto his, tracking the way his damp lips glistened in the firelight, and a heavy, familiar ache pooled deep in her stomach. She didn't care about the woods anymore. She just knew, with a sudden and demanding ferocity, how badly she wanted those lips right back upon her skin.

And when he did — when he hit that exact sweet spot with a simple, gentle, latched kiss — it was as if that sudden halt brought the heat crashing right back over her. His warm palm cupped her breast, fingers tracing the goosebumps on her skin, while a heavy pool of liquid warmth gathered deep below her waist, throbbing right where her pelvis pressed into his lap. Her breath hitched, catching her bottom lip between her teeth to anchor a gasp as his mouth trailed damply over her skin. One hand held the back of his neck, the other gripping his forearm. "...No bears. Definitely no bears. Yogi has been blacklisted from the property," She managed, the breathless chuckle instantly fracturing into a quiet moan as his lips latched carefully over her sensitive nipple. Her teeth sank deeper into her lip, her head tilting back slightly, her eyes catching the stars as she felt the air become far thicker when she motioned herself with a gentle, slow ease of friction against him. "I think that troll would be furiously jealous of your work ethic, detective" she managed to let out between her breathless, lopsided expression that was still fallen elsewhere, as Tré's mouth remained nuzzled over her chest as though humanity really did rely on it. "Mmhm..." The light moan traced through her words, her parted lips, and the gentle crease of her brows that deepened with every touch, every passing breeze only heightening her sensitivity. "We’d definitely have to subpoena him... pin him down," she added, her eyes briefly shutting as she swallowed down a heavy breath.

Her tilted head came back into view, hovering over Tre’s eyes with a sense of pure, unfiltered need. She could feel her tangling feet slightly curl, her grin widening at the dark rumble of his voice whispering right by her ear. Her brain was already short-circuiting, and before a coherent thought could leave her dopey, expressive lips, Tre's mouth was already latched over her breast again. This time, the moan caught between her teeth lingered out breathless — light in tone, but undeniably there. "Any unidentified creatures will be dealt with. They really don't want to mess with me right now," she rasped, quickly moving her hand to the back of his head, anchoring him securely between his wet, lingering kisses and those quiet, intoxicating little pops he was making against her skin. And the more he did, the more Rhea could feel every single part of how it was utterly ruining her — and him.

She could feel him with every micro-movement she made, the heat of his breath absolute fire against her skin each time his lips fell back over her open shirt. Driven by that thick, thrumming ache, she let her left hand slide down from his forearm, her palm tracing a slow, deliberate line down the rugged denim of his thigh. With them squeezed so closely together, she had to tilt her weight back just a fraction, creating just enough space to slip her hand inward and cup him lightly over his jeans. "...Well shoot, I think it's working," she teased, her lopsided smirk so faint beneath the darkened skies. "I just think, for safety measures..." She let out a quiet, fractured moan, completely undermining the stubborn mock seriousness she was trying to put back on. "You should definitely keep checking." Leaving her left hand right where it was , she dragged her right index finger slowly down her own chest. The touch trailed agonizingly slow over her heated skin, stopping just a hair above the last, lowest button holding her shirt together. "Because I'm fairly certain... most of the marshmallow monster's work occurs far lower, is what i've heard" She paused, her gaze swimming dizzily in a heavy, turned-on haze as her chuckle emerged breathlessly beneath her breath. "And it's only a matter of time before I'm completely cast out amongst the creatures, my pretty boy....that's not a great way to start a birthday"

trecoolfms

Tre groaned against her skin when her hand slid down his forearm, the feeling of her delicate fingers on his thick thigh before she calmed him over his jeans made him so very aware of how turned on he was. He hummed in confirmation as he kissed his way to the other side of her chest to pay the same amount of attention to that side too. Her words made him dizzy with lust, a familiar hunger settling in the pit of his stomach but it wasn't one that would be satisfied by food. "Lower?" he asked, looking up at her, his lips barely lifting from her chest at all. Tre's hands moved to the small of her back, his grin softened into something quieter as he drew her a little closer, the firelight flickering across both of them. "How much lower did this marshmallow monster go? Is it serious?" His affection showed itself in small, instinctive ways; the way his hands settled securely at her sides, the way he looked at her like she was simultaneously ridiculous and his favorite person in the world. Leaning in, he pressed a series of warm, lingering kisses along her side, each one accompanied by a faint smile against her skin. The kisses wandered playfully along the curve of her ribs and the edge of her stomach, unhurried and tender. Every now and then he'd pause just long enough to glance up at her with a look of exaggerated concentration, as if his investigation was still ongoing, before returning to his completely fabricated duties. Between the crackle of the fire and the cool Oregon air, Tre looked entirely content to stay right where he was, stealing smiles and collecting evidence that didn't exist. "I'm not going to let them take you." his arm wrapped around her entirely so he could adjust their position. Standing up for just a moment and turning to sit her where he had just been and before she had time to say anything about it he was on his knees in front of her to continue his inspection. Quick fingers worked on her pants while he kissed her stomach just above the waistband, tongue involving itself perhaps more than it needed to but the taste of her was too addictive, and this could've been life or death. He pulled back only to pull her free of her clothes, tossing them onto the empty chair beside them, "If the creatures ever do try to take you though..." his hands eased her knees apart, fingers moving to curl around her calf to raise one of her legs and rest it on his shoulder "I'm coming with." he flashed her a toothy grin, his cheeks dimpling in the cheekiest way. Tre leaned down into her thighs and his lips planted his slow, open mouthed kisses across each of her inner thighs. "Oh my god you were right. It's critical."

#rhseehorn #𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝒀𝑺 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝒀 | paras #nsfw tw

brionesfame

isabriones: corn on the cob but in the middle instead of the corn bone it’s a hot dog

trecoolfms

TRECOOL: How do you get the corn to stick? Also 'corn bone' is crazy work

#brionesfame #𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑵 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑾 | social media #food tw

TRECOOL: Grilled cheese except the cheese is brie and we're doing nutella, blueberry jam and salted pretzels.

#𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑵 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑾 | social media #food tw

#( i know i've probably put this up before but jfc 🥹 )#𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑩𝒀 𝑴𝒀𝑺𝑬𝑳𝑭 | images #𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑨 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑻 | mike

TRECOOL: Just watched Hoppers with the little legend and you know what, it was about time Pixar made a movie that was absolutely batshit insane.

#𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑵 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑾 | social media

rhseehorn

You know what comes with almost victory ? bragging rights. And if another duo goes and cracks our case, well... it's still ours. We did that. Our brains figured it out first. we're the ones getting the star stickers on our forehead. I bet even the chairs in room 204 only has three legs. Just really strange things happening in that room. I think the moths and ghosts need to team up, honestly. Poor guys are probably left being tortured with all that paper world whilst listening to on hold music. It's sad. Well shoot, are we winning a grammy for our melodic giggling or just cause. Like an honourable mention, or "Hey, stop those two intruders, they're not even nominated" and then we flee. I mean, we're really good at that, babe. We bring white sheets, blend in with decor, still probably get caught, it's a solid plan. Which mean's it's exactly right where a folklore should be. They'll be fighting, i'll be laughing. Both parties will be correct. Though, totally about your ass. Just straight up horny pirate carvings. History yet again repeating itself; like women in classic literature being studied, and really, she was just up having some 'feelings' . little man, could've had me fooled...payments in snacks. The pressure is on. I can't have him thinking i'm not cool enough to remember, i definitely remember —— You did say it was dangerous, all these sleepovers... you were right. cause somehow, the distance feels much greater then it has, and i'm not a fan. My wires are all messed up, and there's no hot cryptids in the area when we're not together, i need my circus boy back, i need to be big spooning you asap. I'm here for one more night and then i'm all yours... So, i think i'm feeling extra, extra sprinkles tonight, what do you think ? i also think you should join me in that part. cause remember when i told you i bonked my head off the car door last night, yeah, there's a bump now. I'm getting severely grumpy about all this.

trecoolfms

Exactly! Almost-victory still counts. That's just science. If somebody else solves the mystery later, they're basically just peer-reviewing our work. We get the bragging rights, the star stickers, and at least one commemorative juice box. Hooray! Room 204 is absolutely cursed. Three-legged chairs. Crooked paintings. A TV remote that only changes to the History Channel. The pistachios from the minibar keep going missing so everyone who stays there gets charged like $70 in overpriced nuts. The ghosts and moths need a union at this point. They've suffered enough. Honestly, I think we win the Grammy for lifetime achievement in tomfoolery. They try to stop us at the door and we're already halfway out a side exit wearing fake mustaches and ghost costumes. Mustaches on the sheets. We'd get caught immediately, but we'd have fun doing it. Sprink, the pirate historians are gonna have a field day. "The repeated carvings suggest a deep spiritual yearning." Nope. "A commentary on mortality?" Wrong again. The pirate found a really nice ass and became incredibly annoying about it for the rest of recorded history. Case closed. You'd better remember that handshake. That little dude strikes me as the type to keep records. Somewhere there's a file with your name on it. You warned me these sleepovers were gonna spoil us, and now here we are. We accidentally reset our normal and now our brains are protesting the update. One more night, though. Then my favorite cryptid is back on the west coast, where she belongs. Yes, absolutely extra sprinkles tonight. Extra sprinkles for the ice cream, extra sprinkles for surviving New York, and extra sprinkles because you bonked your head. Honestly, I think you deserve two desserts. Do you need me to pack up this Big Top and come escort you back west before you accidentally challenge another piece of furniture to a fight? Because I'm not saying I don't trust you. I'm just saying you've got one more night left and I'm a little nervous about what kind of trouble you're capable of squeezing into it the way you're collecting bonks and bruises, my girl.

#rhseehorn #𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑳𝒀𝑯𝑶𝑶 | chats

rhseehorn

As the button of her plaid peered open, Rhea let her arms swing softly back around the nape of his neck. She pushed her lips inward with a slow nod, the expression that was now helping her case completely. A lingering trace of those helpless giggles still hovering in her breath as the laughter finally began to fade. Yet they’d still return in tiny little shockwaves — gentle, breathless snorts that lingered through the quiet hums she released as the sensation of his warm, unhurried mouth made her pulse thud a little thicker and heavier against her collarbone. Tre’s tongue flickered softly over the spot she so desperately claimed was 'infected,' with marshmallow goodness, thoroughly examining the skin. Rhea could feel a deeper, breathless chuckle vibrating in the back of her throat, her fingers lazily tightening in his hair. As she shifted slightly upon his lap, she was caught entirely in a mixture of pure, delightful giddiness and a sudden, sheer heat that began to rumble straight through her. As Tre's lips lingered just below her collar, Rhea tilted her head ever so slightly as he came back into view. She could feel the cool night air chilling the damp residue left on her skin, a tiny shiver jolting through her spine even with his fingers still firmly anchoring her waist. Her legs swung lazily back and forth over his lap, a giddy, rhythmic kick of pure satisfaction enhanced by the crackling fire and the realization of where they were — deep in the Oregon wilderness, surrounded by nothing but towering trees, quiet mountains, and the crisp night air. It was a perfect, tiny bubble, and she was incredibly hungry for it. As was the 'gremlin' inside her. Eventually, Rhea gave him a reassuring, mock serious nod. Her brows furrowed playfully, her eyes peering just below his chin once more as she inspected his work. "Huh..." she murmured, her brow twitching. "I might have to take back my previous remarks, detective. Your attention to detail is striking... all for the safety of humanity" She let her bottom lip get caught between her teeth, releasing it with a soft, lingering pop as her eyes flickered hungrily over his fingers unlatching yet another button. Her breath hitched slightly. "mhmm, good idea, keep going" she whispered. Just then, his lips latched right back onto her collarbone, trailing slowly toward the newly exposed center of her chest. As she felt the deliberate, warm pull of his mouth against her skin, her breath hitched for real this time — immediately followed by a softened, breathless little chuckle that dissolved right against his hair.

As his thumb caressed her hem, brushing the bare skin just below her shirt, a pure vibration rolled through her. She shifted lightly in his lap, adjusting her weight just enough to grant his mouth every ounce of access over her body — a low, helpless little hum catching in her throat as the intense, liquid warmth of being so thoroughly turned on started to completely overtake her. It was safe to say that Rhea was simply, silently buzzing. And as Tre finally pulled back, Rhea's lopsided grin returned, matching the slightly hazier, heavy lidded look in her eyes. It was that specific, vulnerable look that told him everything. But then the "menacing" act flared back up. Her eyes narrowed, peering down at her chest before one hand unlatched from his neck to touch her own cheek. The flush of genuine heat trailed easily from her face down to the damp skin of her collarbone. She dragged a single finger through his saliva in a mock-frown, looking back up to lock her gaze directly onto his. "I think..." she paused, her voice dropping into a dry, husky whisper. "I think it’s definitely spread, i still feel flushed. Those pesky, fluffy bastards." She let out a soft, dramatic groan, her eyes rolling back before settling on the dark, intense look in his. "So deliciously dangerous. So deeply sticky. It's like the blob"

Her hand came down to his chest, resting flat against his heartbeat for a beat. "You better keep investigating, detective. Before the other creatures come by to file a second opinion. Don't let them take me, baby — they'll just dissect me...and they'll wish they hadn’t." A tiny, vibrating chuckle released behind her teeth, reaching down and unhitched yet another button. The crisp air rushed over her skin, creating a stark, noticeable chill against her radiating warmth, against the fabric. Only one tiny button was left holding the plaid together. Rhea slid her hand softly back up through his hair, her fingers anchoring him in place as her shift upon his lap became far more deliberate, her hips settling firmly against his. Her brow arched in deadpan challenge "I think you should do a full body check" Rhea's brow arched as she hushed, wiggling ever so lightly upon him, feeling that noticeable ridge underneath her. And as his touch was felt against her again, as that continuous feeling came over her....a branch cracked in the distance. Her head shot instantly over Tré's shoulder, her gaze piercing into the dark where the only visible things were the etched, jagged silhouettes of the trees surrounding them. "Oh no," she became a little more alert, her posture tightening even as a helpless, gentle snort escaped her anyway. She pressed closer into him, "They're coming to get you, Barbara..." She snapped her gaze back down to his, her eyes wide with mock terror as she light grabbed onto his shirt "You better keep licking"

trecoolfms

Tre licked his lips as she planted her hand on his chest, leaning back in his seat to look up at her while she unbuttoned her shirt further. A boyish glint in his eye, teasing him with keeping just the one button closed, it didn't stop his eyes from raking over her and letting his imagination run rampant. His cheeks flushed as she wriggled in his lap and it wasn't heat from the fire — it was one she was starting inside him, right in the middle of his chest and bubbling down to the pit of his stomach, giving him butterflies and making all the blood in his brain rush south. Tre's eyes immediately lifted toward the trees the second the branch cracked. Years of horror movies had taught him exactly nothing useful, but they had taught him that splitting up was a terrible idea. His arm tightened around her automatically and he narrowed his eyes. "That's either a serial killer, a bear, a bridge troll that followed us from the coast, or Bigfoot coming to collect his royalties." His expression remained completely serious. For approximately half a second. Then it broke. A laugh escaped him as he looked back at her, finding her pressed closer to him, eyes wide with mock alarm.

They're coming to get you, Barbara...

"Oh my god." Tre immediately groaned. "No. Don't you start." A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You know what happens when we start quoting horror movies? Next thing you know we're investigating mysterious noises in the woods wearing matching flannel" he glanced over his shoulder into the darkness "...which honestly does sound kinda fun." His attention drifted back to her, the firelight dancing across her face. The joking softened.

His face nuzzled against her chest and he peppered kisses across her skin, "Y'know, I was feeling pretty brave a minute ago. People always act tough until the trees start participating." A soft laugh escaped him.

#rhseehorn #𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝒀𝑺 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝒀 | paras #nsfw tw

TRECOOL: I've been coloring for 3 hours and I think my retinas have detached

#𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑵 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑾 | social media #( me lmao reminds me of when we were all making friendship bracelets and i kept forgetting to look up )

Tre has always given me Animal vibes (for obvious reasons) but I just started watching Mayhem and he looked at a letter H on the wall and went "W!" and Floyd was like "Good job Animal! ... He's learning the alphabet." and it gave me "I can count to four and back, I'm a drummer" vibes.

#frog | ooc

rhseehorn

Such turmoil for the mystery inc, yet again. I feel it deep in my bones, babe. We're still allowed to claim we uncovered something, though. Simply by knowing we would've. The pictures you paint in my mind, circus boy.. what a gift. Although, i have this sneaky suspicion room 204's switch get's stuck the most, just straight up out of rhythm. The moths must be so confused. But wait !!! The cackling... the evil laughter, shoot... it was the creepy hotel manager all along. This is where we'd take his 'mask' off and he'd go "And i would've gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for you meddling gigglers" ...It's not our fault everything suddenly becomes funnier when we're trying to bring justice, trying to stay quiet is hard, as you and i know all too well. And you know what, maybe it's all the above. Maybe the swingers are paranormal investigators... i'd watch that show. Woah, and the legend will go; that once this pirate got it's golden booty, it realised quick that there was never a booty as such in all their days. Never one so golden and firm, so mesmerising. This pirate, was so enchanted by its discovery, it's why the carvings were found on more then just one boat. The boats were endless. They'd still be finding new carvings in 2126. That folklore better turn into a thanksgiving float, though. i'll be so mad. I would almost say he was in charge of the festival, actually. It's confidence i aspire to have.. and i hope i can see him again soon. Little dude taught me a handshake last time, and i need to let him know i still remember it. Yes, chef ! I'm feeling greedy. huh, I also didn’t realise corn dogs had egos, ...gotta peg 'em down a notch, baby. Anywaaay... i've missed you, bunches. Yeah ? I got a little frowny when i realised our back to back double feature, reality on pause, sleepovers all but came and went, and you weren’t there when i woke up this time. And now you're back, and i'm in New York again, and i'm just really excited to get back west. That being said, i will be ordering ice cream room service again later this evening, so.. expect a facetime call.

trecoolfms

See, that's exactly how real investigators operate. We may not have caught the culprit, but we know in our hearts we were one sleep-deprived giggle fit away from cracking the whole case wide open. That's basically a victory. You're absolutely right. Room 204. That's the problem room. The manager keeps hammering that switch on and off and the poor lamp is trying its best to keep tempo. Somewhere there's a moth filing formal complaints because the lamp can't commit to a schedule. The reveal would've been incredible, too. "IT WAS YOU!" manager removes mask, and his name is like Old Man Pumpernickel or something because it always is. "And I would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling gigglers and your completely unfounded conspiracy theories!" Roll credits. Freeze frame. Grammy award. Listen, that pirate folklore is getting way out of hand now. A hundred years from now there are university professors arguing over the meaning of the carvings. "Some scholars believe the Golden Booty was a metaphor." No, professor. It was an ass. A really nice ass. History deserves accuracy, dammit. Mickey absolutely ran that festival. Every time I see that little dude he carries himself like he's paying everyone's salaries. I fully believe he taught you a handshake and I fully believe he'd be disappointed if you forgot it. The standards are high when you're dealing with management. As for the corn dog ego, don't blame me. I'm fighting for my life over here. The festivals and the chaos and the food are all great, but it's weird waking up and realizing the sleepover's over. One minute we're causing trouble together and the next you're back in New York, I'm somewhere else entirely, and suddenly the distance feels way bigger than it did a few days ago. So yeah. Get back west already, would ya? The cryptid investigations aren't the same without my favorite co-conspirator. And when that ice cream room service arrives later? You better Facetime me. I expect a full review. This is important journalism too, babe. Get extra sprinkles in my memory.

#rhseehorn #𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑳𝒀𝑯𝑶𝑶 | chats

ofdualipa

my threats are promises, tre and with you in cancun? couldn't miss that chance, that's for damn sure. i saw some and i felt that myself. all we got up to together was seriously amazing. might need to hang again one day soon, sir. we'll be doing such again, you have my word. where's the great tre cool now that the trip ended?

trecoolfms

Oh, I know your threats are promises, trouble. That's the part that's got me excited. But yeah, we're absolutely doing it again. That's not even a question. I already miss having a co-pilot for all my dumb observations. As for where the great Tre Cool is now? Currently back home, hanging out with the dogs, pretending I'm adjusting to normal life again. Which mostly means wandering around the house, looking at photos from the trip, and thinking, "Damn, that was a really good week." I went from Cancun straight into Bottlerock, I was on stage performing, then hosting the culinary stage on Sunday.

#ofdualipa #𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑳𝒀𝑯𝑶𝑶 | chats

rhseehorn

Darnit ! I imagine this is how the whole scooby gang feel whenever they've run out of gas and have to take a detour. Or, or...those tunnels ? a bunch of switches on the wall, each one curated for every rooms 'lamp'. The hotel managers flicker them manually at the hours of 1 to 3am, blaming the poor ghosts in the hall. Giving them a bad rep. Man, we'll just have to save the red-string for the next one. I think the giggling balances the danger aspect out, kinda. We're harmless. I bet we'd even get pranked on the spirit box. You know what, i like your version better. It's mysterious. It's intriguing. Is it about a séance, or is it a bunch of swingers leaving an open invite. Create a mass confusion, it's genius, we're geniuses. You make a very romantic point, actually. And if one confused fisherman is reading it...or a puzzled sea creature, someone else will know i'd hoist my sails for that golden booty, anytime, anyday. let it live on forever. They'll write poems about it! Long live our pillow fort, though. I'm highly jealous about the food part. Aw mickey, how overly ecstatic was the little dude about it.. cause i can just imagine the pure delight he's been having, i would too seeing such a rock goddess. All work and all play is what i've been seeing from your posts... and i love that you're having such a great time. Stop it. Now you're just making me drool, and that's highly unfair. The lobster caviar corn dog or the organic, locally grown drummer ? cause i'll take both.

trecoolfms

That's exactly it. We're the Scooby gang five minutes before the credits roll. We know something's wrong, we've got three competing theories, a suspicious lamp situation, and then somebody goes, "Aw jeez, gang, we're outta gas." The truth slips through our fingers once again. Baby, that tunnel theory is solid. Some hotel manager sitting in a secret control room at 2am with a giant switchboard labelled ROOM 204 LAMP, ROOM 318 LAMP, ROOM 427 LAMP. Just flicking them on and off while cackling. Meanwhile the ghosts are catching all the blame. Terrible PR. You're right though, the giggling probably ruins our intimidation factor. Nobody's afraid of investigators who have to stop every three minutes because one of them snorted laughing and set the other one off again. The séance review is perfect because nobody knows what they're signing up for. Paranormal investigation? Secret society? Accidental swingers convention? The mystery is part of the experience. And listen, if some fisherman finds that carving years from now, he's absolutely gonna tell the story wrong. That's how legends work. A hundred years later there'll be sea shanties about a pirate who crossed oceans in search of a mythical golden booty. History deserves that. Long live the pillow fort, by the way. A temporary structure. An eternal monument. As for Mickey? That little dude was living his best life. He got attention, snacks, more attention, probably convinced several strangers he was in charge of the festival. The confidence of that little legend is honestly something to aspire to. I can hook you up with both. For the record, one of those was delicious and the other one is trying very hard not to let that go straight to his ego. Missed you though. Bunches. Been thinking about you a lot this weekend.

#rhseehorn #𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑳𝒀𝑯𝑶𝑶 | chats