Starving Artist Ink.

baaah!

comments are still not working, or randomly working. we’re scratching our heads, and butts trying to understand this miscommunication between the internetz and my comment form page.

how do i word this…. uhhh i’m sitting here staring at the screen, little blinking line- with tons of random thoughts going through my mind- wanting to just splooge them all and that’s that. no tie in from one to the next. no story. just bam bam baaam.  can i do that? is that okay? will you forgive me? of course you will, you have no choice-and no comment box in which to tell me to shut.up. ha!

you may e-mail that to me instead.

here it goes.

‘speaking of bras‘ is how it started off in my head. but we weren’t speaking of bras. i just thought it was a clever tie in with the tit.le. nevermind.. AHEM. continuing.

is there any better feeling than taking your bra off at the end of the day? mmm seriously. my boobs are getting all anxious and excited just thinking about it.

there’s something about women, and their traditions of bra-ness that is super sweet to me. like.. when you’re young and you watch your mom put on her bra in the morning before work- how elegant and classy she is- how beautiful she is. how she gracefully slips this thing on- and how THAT is womanhood to you. that, and shaving your legs. and panty hose.   anyway- the bra. it’s like a secret society that you want to get in on. you’re there wishing that you’d just grow boobs already so you can have one. you find out that there’s a few girls that are wearing them in class… le sigh. and then your day comes when you go with your mom, or some other woman figure- to get your first bra. and it’s exciting and like a sweet little tradition, a step into womanhood. and it’s a secret, it’s just yours. no one knows that secretly, under your clothes- you are a woman.

la la laaa bliss.

aren’t training bras so sweet? am i the only one?  ..is this mic on?

anyway. whatever. what i am saying is that the training bra is the first piece that starts you on your journey into the secret, seductive world that is the woman.

and i’m also saying that once you are there, it feels damn good to take that piece of shit off at the end of the day.

end thought.

moving on…

looking at some more paintings of the past year- and am still missing their funky, sexy, stylish yum.

i don’t know what your thoughts are on her… and i don’t even mind if you can’t stand her. that’s fine with me. because i lalalalove her! she’s grungy hippy sofuckingcool i want to be her friend, i want to be like her. i want to be her. sigh. painting girl, won’t you be my friend and teach me the way of your ness?

end scene.

perhaps i’ll save the rest of the mess in my head for another time?

until then…

ta-ta.

i am taking off my bra.

anyone wanna scratch my back?

(again. i’m sorry about the comment thing. i’m really trying to figure it out, but my technical support man (husband) is bewildered and cute. hopefully it will get fixed soon. you can always contact me on the contact form *which is a private e-mail to me.* or e-mail me directly at edarcy@starvingartistink.com)

-edited to add- i am getting all of your comments. they are appearing. some people are having problems wherein they click the comment part- and it just… doesn’t do anything. the jerk! it just goes bloopbloopbloop thinkiiinnnng no. so they don’t even get a chance to write a comment, let alone press send. sorry to those. i love you?