the new season of game of thrones looks so good
LEST WE FORGET THE MOTHERFUCKER WHO STARTED THE ‘BOYS IN CROP TOPS’ MOVEMENT 28 YEARS AGO. ABOUT TIME!
WARNING: INCREDIBLY PUKEWORTHY POST BELOW.
I honestly can not wrap my head around the fact that today marks one year of Biko and I becoming us.
Every day, every god damn day, I’m wondering how? How the fuck did I land such a mega fucking babe? How the hell did I find this magnificent creature? How is it even possible to have stumbled upon the one person that makes me feel whole?
I am ever thankful to the universe for giving me such a banging soulmate. Biko is such a handsome, loving, strange kitten of a human being and I’m so grateful for his presence in my life, as my best friend and my boyfriend.
I still look at the day he told me he loved me (which was this day, last year, obvs) in utter disbelief. It was like a fucking Friends moment or something.
He was so quiet, for the longest time. Just watching me, kinda smiling but kinda scared. When I asked him what was up, he kept looking at me, looking away, saying “I can’t say it.”
By the first minute, I thought something horrendous had happened. Like he was about to tell me he just found out his father died, it was dreadful.
By minute three of this repetition, I had caught on, and had lowered my tone from overly concerned to “Hey, it’s okay, buddy, what’s goin’ on?”, which is the same tone I use when one of the cats get spooked.
Finally, by minute five, after much frustration on his end, and much quiet giggling, soft smiling, and gentle coaxing on mine, he said it. He told me.
He had such a look of dread on his face, as if he felt he just destroyed our friendship forever.
But that look quickly changed, when he saw me with the dumbest smile, and he heard me say it, too.
Four days later, he was in my world. Seeing him for the first time, feeling his warmth, hearing his heartbeat, smooching the everloving fuck out of him, time stood completely still.
I don’t even know how to describe what I felt in that moment, it was like some plane of happiness that I just cannot put into words.
I have no idea how he survived that day. It was my mother’s birthday, I’d hospitalised her two days prior in a pretty bad way, and when he met her she was in the worst of it.
I remember telling him to wait outside of the room, as I’d really wanted for him to meet her when she was better, but Stevie had suggested the possibility that she may have been the healthiest he was ever going to see her (which really could have been how things panned out).
So, I brought him in to my mother’s room, and it was gnarly.
Her room was located in one of the most awful wards in Flinders Medical Centre. It was outdated, the linoleum floor wasn’t flat, it smelled like Dettol and soup, and had three other coughing, wheezing, moaning patients.
My mother was not in a good way, at all. We had originally planned to take her out to one of the little restaurants near the hospital for her birthday, but we were told by the nursing staff that there was no way in hell our mother was going anywhere in her condition.
My mother, being the stubborn Irish broad that she is, tried to prove the nurse wrong. She attempted to get up to leave and almost collapsed. It was bad.
The sight of my mother on this birthday was pretty much more than I could bare, I have no idea how it must have been for Biko, who had never experienced any situation even close to this one.
But he soldiered through it, holding my hand, making sure I was okay. He laughed at my mother’s jokes, he tried his best to talk to her as well as he could, he even awkwardly posed for a photo of Stevie, Dan, he and I for my mother.
The first time he had ever been in this city, had met these people, had seen the situation that I grew up in, he was completely solid. It was mindblowing, really. He went through a lot that day and he weathered the storm perfectly.
This past year has been so full of wonderful adventures and stupid jokes it really did just run away from us.
We’ve had such an incredible beginning chapter to our life together, and now it’s time for us to start the next.
In which Snoop Dogg doesn’t give a fuck about your gender policing, and 50 Cent continues to be way too concerned about the sexuality of other male rappers.
…that’s more than 140 characters.
birds don’t give a fuck about kool-aid
Zelda’s sitting in my drawer watching a tiny moth fly around my room. Her eyes are so big.