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coffee

New icon

Posted on 2004.07.30 at 21:11
Current Mood: drunkdrunk
I'm actually liking it and I made it! All bow to the icon, and sexual undertones!

Comments:


just abi
justabi at 2004-07-30 13:41 (UTC) (Link)
Lovely. Got to love a little fresh ground coffee to start off the morning groin, I mean grind. :)
aurora_bee
aurora_bee at 2004-07-30 13:48 (UTC) (Link)
I fany a nice little grind ;)
aurora_bee
aurora_bee at 2004-07-30 13:49 (UTC) (Link)
Whoops fancy. Fany means something different in the uk!
Raven
raveninthewind at 2004-07-30 14:37 (UTC) (Link)
He's got sexy hands. :D
aurora_bee
aurora_bee at 2004-07-30 14:51 (UTC) (Link)
Sexy everything. It's a good pic ;o) Like your better though!
Ishtar
ishtar127a at 2004-07-30 14:56 (UTC) (Link)
Looks like a really painful accident, just waiting to happen. I think I prefer my dream with the pancake syrup.
aurora_bee
aurora_bee at 2004-07-30 14:58 (UTC) (Link)
Oh do tell pleassssssseeeeeeeeeeee. Will write an erotic fic for you if you do ;o)
Ishtar
ishtar127a at 2004-08-04 09:20 (UTC) (Link)
Oh, I never get the fun dreams, believe me; just the kreffing weird ones. I think I posted it to the MRMB, but it was a while ago, and on the old site. Ummm, something like this: Michael was wearing a white crew-neck tee-shirt--plain, no logo, much like your regular Hanes or Fruit-of-the-Loom undershirt. Also, dark green khaki pants, again rather plain. Mmm, I don't think I recall too much details on them--nothing special, standard issue with hip pockets, but all I had was a front view and a seated back-view. Think of those bizarre gold camo-pants you've seen in pictures and recolor them; it probably comes close, except the ones I "saw" were cotton. Something around the neck and tucked into the shirt, but I'm not sure if it was a chain or a band or strap--some sort of necklace; face well-shaved. And, oddly enough, he had hair, about 1 1/4 inch-long. Shoes nondescript; presumed sneakers of some sort. (Definitely not open sandles; that I would remember.) No make-up emphasis. Face very plain, much like his candid shots. About the only that's-funny in appearance was that the hair color was not the darker insta-growth color we're used to seeing on hiatus. Slightly lighter; still not blonde. But it was the usual brillo/spikey texture. A watch band or something wide and dark on the right wrist. Minimal tan; somewhat weathered skin texture. About the only other physicality I remember was that he was slightly muscled up, but nowhere near the whatever-the-hell-he did for Exile. "Wirey," maybe? The scene: some (again) nondescript diner, midmorning, warm and sunny from the large plate-glass windows out of sight, ivory white/yellowed formica counter top with rolled steel edges. He's seated at the counter, not a restaurant table, on one of those 50's-type pole-and-circular cushion stools with no back. Perhaps it was a yellow ochre color; something neutral, anyway! No one with his that I recall, but I must have imagined someone there, because he was talking with them later. Perhaps it was the waitress. This is pretty specific: his plate was dark green, oval, with an incomplete small oval cut-out at one end, sort of like the thumb-hole in a painter's palette with one side chopped off. The action: Slight zoom-in on back while seated at counter, eating pancakes. He's chatting with someone while stuffing his face between comments, but it's all in undertone and words can't be distinguised. Conversational social laugh to some comment, and... flying leap! into the air, back off the stool, because he just tipped his plate a bit and the syrup spilled through that cut-out and flang-dang right into the middle his lap!Very sticky, splotchy mess, and he's laughing his head off to somebody. I'd say he said "Damn!" or "Shit!" or something equally edifying mid-jump, but that may be supposition, because I don't remember that part. Like I don't recall anyone with him, but I got the sense he wasn't alone, just not in soome cosy twosome or closed circle of friends. Very inclusive of the surrounding.

Mostly a visual sort of experience, there-and-back in five seconds or less. And frankly, just plain strange. I may have mentally set the time in mid-morning, but I remember waking up immediately in the middle of the night (about 2 a.m. I guess), and thinking, "Where in the hell did that come from?" Then I went back to sleep. No reruns, sadly! Just one of those incredibly vivid, short dreams that feel like somebody just stuck a page from a story into your head and neglected the minor incidentals, such as plot or motivation. I get a lot of those. Short, sweet, and utterly, utterly inexplicable!

Sorry; I guess it won't give you much fuel for creativity, unless you have the waitress deliberately tilting the plate into his lap, and then tackling him over the counter! Better empty the restaurant, first. ;)
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