Our resident male made an agreement with me a while ago. He said if he got caught up dwelling on useless negative shit from useless shitty negative social media conversations, I should thwack him on the skull with my finger.
Maybe it would have been smart of me to remember how thick-headed he is before agreeing to subject my graceful digits to that.
You know what? Every time I pull up my blog to look back over it, I see my profile picture over in the sidebar, and I think, "God damn, you are fine in that shot, woman." I mean, I'm not saying I have that high a bar when it comes to how hot someone has to be for me to sleep with them.
But I would definitely fuck me.
Sorry, everyone. But our blissful poly partnership kicks ass over all of your romantic efforts. I'm not saying yours aren't great in their own ways, and I'm not saying you should set yourselves up for disappointment by trying to achieve something on our level.
I'm just saying we fucking rock.
Exultantly yours,
Elle
Photoshoots have not been a steady hobby of mine for ... well, ever. But the last few years they've been even less frequent, so it was n...
