Elder-millennial. Queer as hell. Sex positive. Fannish.
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Just off the top of your head, don't need to try and look it up to check out anything:
Can you name a web search engine that you used before Google?
Yes
No
Don't know/just want to see the results
Remaining time: 6 days 7 hours
The book I'm reading suggests that Google became so market dominant that most people couldn't name a search engine that came before it, so I'm curious.
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Ozempic scares the shit out of me. You're telling me there's a drug that takes away both the craving side of hunger and targets the brain's rewards center for eating. You're telling me it takes the joy out of eating and it turns you into a skeleton. Why did we turn The Curse of the Black Pearl into a drug. What the fuck.
I actually want to thank the diabetics coming on this post like "actually it genuinely is a great treatment for diabetes and it hasn't affected my mood or my enjoyment of food. The real issue is it's getting abused as a weight loss drug which also makes it scarce and more expensive for those who can genuinely benefit from it." Kind of reminds me of the time my brother got permission from our family psychiatrist to try my ADHD medication and his reaction to it was "what the fuck are you on. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON. WHY DO I FEEL LIKE CRYING. YOU'RE ON THIS EVERY DAY!?!"
Body chemistry! It makes a big difference in how your body processes a drug! What can be genuinely helpful for some folks is The Curse of the Black Pearl for others!
Still haven't decided quite where it fits into the timeline of my story, but it'll probably be in either the next chapter or the one after:
"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry," Shane said as Ilya stood up from the bed, raking his eyes over the damage.
Ilya turned back around, bemused. "For what?"
"I didn't mean to leave—" Shane gestured vaguely toward Ilya's lower body. "I think it might bruise."
Of course Shane would try to apologize for wanting Ilya's cock so badly he forgot his own strength. He'd gouged his fingers into the meat of Ilya's thighs, clenching down in a vice grip and yanking Ilya forwards into his mouth like he needed his cock more than air.
Ilya tried twisting his leg to look, but the angle was impossible without a creatively placed mirror. Shane was sitting up now against the headboard. Ilya dropped back onto the bed and flopped forward across Shane's lap to grab his phone from the bedside table. He unlocked it, waving it at Shane.
"Take picture."
"What?"
Ilya shoved the phone into Shane's hand then moved further down and, after a moment of thinking, took a half reclining position facing Shane nearer the foot of the bed, leaning back on one elbow and hiking up his leg for a better angle. "So I can see."
Shane rolled his eyes.
"I'm serious. I need to know what kind of chirps I will be facing tomorrow morning. Show me exactly what you did to me."
Shane took the phone from his hand and snapped a low angle photo, looked at it, then leaned back slightly and, biting his lip in concentration, took a second, more carefully framed photo. He handed the camera back, a nervous expression on his face.
The image was ... striking. Ilya sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and held it, taking in the stark finger shaped marks that curled around the back of his leg, right under the crease where his thigh met his buttocks. They were already deepening into darker purple, stark against the pale sweat-damp gleam of the skin around them.
When he breathed out again, it was with a soft, heartfelt, "Fuuuck."
"I really didn't mean to. I'm so sorry, I—"
"You are apologizing? Seriously? For giving me the greatest blowjob I've ever had in my life?"
"Your team—"
"They know that I like to fuck."
"Yeah, sure, but a puck bunny wouldn't leave a bruise like that."
"Maybe I just tell them I hooked up with a Women's MMA fighter. With enormous hands."
Shane gave him a look.
"Or maybe I will tell them nothing. Let them, ah, spec-u-late."
"You're not worried they'll—"
"What? Figure out that Shane Hollander likes to grab my ass? You worry to much."
"I shouldn't have lost control like—"
"Shane, I am begging you. Please stop apologizing for the hottest thing that has ever happened to me."
He handed the phone back to Shane, then flipped over onto his stomach, ass fully on display. "Take more photos. I want to jerk off to them later."
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First humans ever to leave the solar system suddenly drop out of communications and the ship can't be found with any equipment. After one month of no contact their home countries start reluctantly holding funerals for the space heroes only for them all to turn up, healthy, well fed and extremely disoriented, in the middle of Tokyo, talking about alien abduction. Turns out that aliens found the poor humans straying out of their solar system, presumably lost, and took them to Alien Wildlife Rehabilitation before dumping them back in the middle of their native habitat.
I’ll bet they have cool new tattoos that turn out to be tracking devices too. Just in case these spirited individuals try to make another break for it.
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In case anyone hasn't heard, the cyclospora outbreak affecting tons of people in the US right now is coming from Taylor Farms produce. Best to stay away from bagged lettuce and prepared salads completely right now, but especially the ones mentioned in the screenshot:
Taylor Farms
Earthbound Farms
Little Salad Bar (Aldi)
Marketside (Walmart)
Kroger House Brand
Target private label greens
Costco salads and greens etc
Trader Joe's chopped salad kits and fresh produce
Fast food: McDonalds, Taco Bell, (Yum! Brands), Chipotle, Subway, Pizza Hut, KFC, Olive Garden, Top Golf, Red Lobster, Burger King, etc.
This is not the first time I've heard about a Taylor Farms foodborne illness outbreak. I stopped eating their salads after reading a description of the conditions in their facilities. Doesn't sound like they've improved anything.
We need a fully funded and staffed FDA, and regulations with teeth - and that's exactly what we don't have under Trump. To make things worse, the CDC is no longer tracking these outbreaks. We're on our own.
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