So I'm told
i love taurus guys and get along amazingly with them. I like taurus people in general, and they seem to like me more than any sign besides gemini and libra. Attraction between me and pisces men is insane, but we are so incompatible every time! I like gemini guys too, but my best relationship was with a libra man
Related Messages
I can't believe people eat something that grows out of huge piles of bovine shit
yell at me for being on DXP I have 18,000 sq. ft. to space plan
Posted by aquasnozPosted by TheLadyScorpio
The kind of Mushrooms which he mentions, certainly brings in the unicorns and god knows what else.
Am I correct Snozzy?
Sometimes the winged variety a pegasus of some kind! lol! Let's see how far in the crazy scale can I go! Oh mushies and absinthe now there's a combination!click to expand
You go have fun now, I shall sit tight and enjoy the cake which I have made, for I am only seeing air as your draw circles and pegasus, alike.
Posted by brianafay
yell at me for being on DXP I have 18,000 sq. ft. to space plan
GET THE FUCK OUT!
(Mission Accomplished)
Posted by Nemesis
smell books - whenever i get a new one - i open it on a random page and inhale it - it??s like prepping. can??t help myself.
yes!
except I smell EVERYTHING. It's bizarre.
Nothing goes in my mouth without smelling it first
and yes, thanks, I realize how that sounded
That means people don't like to pull out in the winter time lol.
link http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2338283/How-common-YOUR-birthday-Chart-Americans-born-decades-shows-greeting-card-stores-likely-busiest-July-August-September.html
link http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2338283/How-common-YOUR-birthday-Chart-Americans-born-decades-shows-greeting-card-stores-likely-busiest-July-August-September.html
haha thanks 
toods!
toods!
ooo whatcha planning bri?
My Dearest Catherine,
I miss you, my darling, as I always do, but today is especially hard because the ocean has been singing to me, and the song is that of our life together. I can almost feel you beside me as I write this letter, and I can smell the scent of wildflowers that always reminds me of you. But at this moment, these things give me no pleasure. Your visits have been coming less often, and I feel sometimes as if the greatest part of who I am is slowly slipping away.
I am trying, though. At night when I am alone, I call for you, and whenever my ache seems to be the greatest, you still seem to find a way to return to me. Last night, in my dreams, I saw you on the pier near Wrightsville Beach. The wind was blowing through your hair, and your eyes held the fading sunlight. I am struck as I see you leaning against the rail. You are beautiful, I think as I see you, a vision that I can never find in anyone else. I slowly begin to walk toward you, and when you finally turn to me, I notice that others have been watching you as well. "Do you know her?" they ask me in jealous whispers, and as you smile at me, I simply answer with the truth. "Better than my own heart."
I stop when I reach you and take you in my arms. I long for this moment more than any other. It is what I live for, and when you return my embrace, I give myself over to this moment, at peace once again.
I raise my hand and gently touch your cheek and you tilt your head and close your eyes. My hands are hard and your skin is soft, and I wonder for a moment if you'll pull back, but of course you don't. You never have, and it is at times like this that I know what my purpose is in life.
I am here to love you, to hold you in my arms, to protect you. I am here to learn from you and to receive your love in return. I am here because there is no other place to be.
But then, as always, the mist starts to form as we stand close to one another. It is a distant fog that rises from the horizon, and I find that I grow fearful as it approaches. It slowly creeps in, enveloping the world around us, fencing us in as if to prevent escape. Like a rolling cloud, it blankets everything, closing, until there is nothing left but the two of us.
I miss you, my darling, as I always do, but today is especially hard because the ocean has been singing to me, and the song is that of our life together. I can almost feel you beside me as I write this letter, and I can smell the scent of wildflowers that always reminds me of you. But at this moment, these things give me no pleasure. Your visits have been coming less often, and I feel sometimes as if the greatest part of who I am is slowly slipping away.
I am trying, though. At night when I am alone, I call for you, and whenever my ache seems to be the greatest, you still seem to find a way to return to me. Last night, in my dreams, I saw you on the pier near Wrightsville Beach. The wind was blowing through your hair, and your eyes held the fading sunlight. I am struck as I see you leaning against the rail. You are beautiful, I think as I see you, a vision that I can never find in anyone else. I slowly begin to walk toward you, and when you finally turn to me, I notice that others have been watching you as well. "Do you know her?" they ask me in jealous whispers, and as you smile at me, I simply answer with the truth. "Better than my own heart."
I stop when I reach you and take you in my arms. I long for this moment more than any other. It is what I live for, and when you return my embrace, I give myself over to this moment, at peace once again.
I raise my hand and gently touch your cheek and you tilt your head and close your eyes. My hands are hard and your skin is soft, and I wonder for a moment if you'll pull back, but of course you don't. You never have, and it is at times like this that I know what my purpose is in life.
I am here to love you, to hold you in my arms, to protect you. I am here to learn from you and to receive your love in return. I am here because there is no other place to be.
But then, as always, the mist starts to form as we stand close to one another. It is a distant fog that rises from the horizon, and I find that I grow fearful as it approaches. It slowly creeps in, enveloping the world around us, fencing us in as if to prevent escape. Like a rolling cloud, it blankets everything, closing, until there is nothing left but the two of us.