Fucking Classy

Its been a quiet few days for me. Although I’m starting to really think I must be either really needy or semi-attention-starved.

From my favorite bar, there’s been a nice guy that I’ve hung out with a few times. We’ve never hung out outside of the arena of a booze-house, so this should be interesting. Tonight we are going to meet at the driving range and crack a few balls. Honestly (and here’s where my semi-alcoholism in social situations comes in), I think I’ll be packing a flask or at least a mixed drink to sip on on the way there so as to be able to lighten up and actually hit the ball. Why do I get so nervous and awkward? So we’ll see how that goes.

Due to this new venture in my life to attempt blogging, I have started to read a couple of other blogs out of curiosity. I have found some interesting ones and some that are as boring as this post feels (even while I write it I’m yawning). I have pretty much begun stalking one guy – we’ll call him D. D is super interesting and…well… tall and funny. Why is that such a killer combo? Anyway, I’m waiting to see how long it takes before I lose interest, as I inevitably will. That’s the great thing about stalking, the stalked never has to know that you had any interest or that you lost it – because they didn’t know of your tendencies in the first place. Glorious. I think I’m going to start picking someone at random to stalk every few weeks, keep things spicy.

On the fetish front – I have another panty drop tomorrow and have received a couple of interesting propositions in the meantime. There is a guy with a flashing fetish – which, since it would take place in public, I think I’d be ok with. And then there’s a chap who requested that we meet in a supermarket, he’d bend over and I could see his thong, and I would proceed to giggle and tease him a little for it. I’m turning that one over, too, because I could do it over a lunch hour and not lose any time at all, while picking up a few dollars and allowing someone to have a little of their own fun. I’m such a giver. And classy, so classy.

Speaking of classy, I go to this music festival each year in Walker, MN, called Moondance Jam. They have a t-shirt there that I’ve been eyeing for some time. This year, when a friend I met there dipped a rose into a glass of whiskey and ate it, it really came to mind. (sidenote: I like to give him “crap” about his “poopouri” that he took the next day and how his “shit really does smell like roses” – ahhh, the possibilities are endless.) Here it is:

Instead I got a pair of panties with rhinestones spelling out the word “Moondance.” Why do I need that t-shirt? Considering the purchase I actually made – case in point.