Month: January 2016

Is that stale beer, sweat, pig shit or weed I can smell?

Train late. May not make my connection at Hackney Downs. Pissballs.

RT @colinmeloy: “‘It ain’t snacks I’m hungry for, Trevor.’ Ryan’s heart was beating wildly beneath the quilted flannel of his shirt.” #bundyeroticfanfic

RT @colinmeloy: “Jason pressed Jed against a rack of “Birds of Oregon” books; his breath was sweet with jerky. Somewhere, an egret cried” #bundyeroticfanfic