durbustweeb

Met my first SG folk tonight, katfireblade and wyspurr. And they met me. Neither of them, nor I had any fangs, though I did appear suspiciously like a normal person, I think. They gave me some advice.

a) Be more fucking assertive.
b) Don't come across so fucking nervous online.
c) Be more fucking assertive.

Maybe I missed a point here or there, but they can correct me if I'm wrong.

OK, well I put up this (I'm told) rather lame thing on SGAtliens looking for a model. She responded, that's how we got together. She said (I might have mentioned this) that I wasn't assertive enough, that that may have weirded people out of volunteering. OK, how's this? ANYONE WANT TO POSE FOR MY PICTURES???????? I'M NOT SOME WEIRDO, I DON'T GIVE A FLYING RIP WHETHER YOU PAY ME OR I PAY YOU OR WE DO TRADE BUT I NEED TO TAKE SOME PICTURES OF PEOPLE CLOTHED AND UNCLOTHED TO INCLUDE IN MY FUCKING PICTURES. AND ANOTHER THING I WANT TO DO IS CARTOON ALL OVER SOMEONE, USING THEM AS A CANVAS.

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**this part inserted due to note below...

I'M ONE HELL OF A DAMN GOOD ARTIST AND EVERYONE WHO WORKS WITH ME SHOULD JUST BE FUCKING GLAD TO KNOW ME AND HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL THEIR GRANDKIDS SOME DAY. BUT NO FREAK'N SEX... SORRY, BUT MY BRIDE HAS DIBS ON MY FUCKING GLORIOUS PERSON.
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There. You know my deepest perversion. I know, I'm a sicko. I'm bound for hell, and death is at the door beating at it.

Was that shy? Over the top? Rude? Gosh, I hope I'm not coming across wrong. WHAT THE FUCK DO I CARE. I'M BEING ASSERTIVE.

And while I'm being assertive let me just say I've been smoke free for nearly 8 years with two short interruptions, and while I'm proud of that I'm also quite not proud of that. And I hate booze, hate the taste of it, hate the smell of it, and what the HELL got into the person who invented beer to actually develop a taste for it? And that expensive coffee that comes out of some cat's butt? WHAT ARE THESE PEOPLE THINKING???

cklarock, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT ON YOUR WALL????

Funny story... I had to get a model for a jewelry client, and that during my religious years. I did not have friends I could call and say, "Hey, can I borrow your chest for a few pix?" Not to mention, I was much more uptight, and shy. So I thought and thought and thought, and it occurred to me that a girl in the office I was subletting from might be a perfect candidate.

Drop dead gorgeous, really sweet to me, one of these people one can't figure out the race, and did I mention drop dead gorgeous? So I screwed up my courage and said, "Uh, well, uhm, S., can I ask you something? Uhm, please feel free to say no... Uhm, I have this client, see, and, uhm, I need a model, and it's for jewelery and I need a neckline but you..." She stops me with, "Do you want me clothed or unclothed?" I felt like a babbling mess.

So we arranged the time and place, and while we're waiting for the jewelry store owner she goes window shopping in this little mall. Two stores down is a WONDERFUL lingerie store. Expensive stuff, great taste, very beautiful, hand made... and she says "Hey, D, come over and look at this! This would be PERFECT for the shoot!"

I was sure I was going to hell right then. Right then.

The really pathetic thing was... it didn't occur to me until perhaps two years later that maybe she was sending me a signal? Uhhhh, duh?

Geesh. I gotta pee now. All these "fuckin's" make me feel like I'm trapped in a Tom Wolfe book.