It's a thin line between Aww end Eww

Think about baby animals.

Think about your childhood stuffed toys.

Think about picking up your favourite purple cow from a box and finding a nest of newborn mice living in the butchered insides of your childhood stuffed toys.

There. Now you know how I feel.

Krissie's Book Club

Well okay, I'm not Oprah, therefore I don't actually have a book club. I do, however, have a book I'd like to introduce to you. Lo and behold! (I don't actually know what that means, but it seemed appropriate.)

RAZOR WIRE PUBIC HAIR is the touching tale of a living, breathing, thinking, sex toy that is hopelessly in love with its owner who views it as little more than an object.

It's not as bad as you thought, right? It's a little on the wacky side, but kinda endearing nonetheless.

Yeah well, keep on reading.

Imagine a world without men where the only way a woman can reproduce is with the help of a giant computerized incubator and a genetically engineered sex toy. Now imagine that this sex toy is intelligent. It has emotions and a soul. It hopes and dreams and it falls in love. This is the premise of Carlton Mellick III's RAZOR WIRE PUBIC HAIR. One of the main characters "The Sister" is a nymphomaniac who is covered from head to toe in vaginas. Celsia is an Amazon warrior with pubic hair made of razor wire. The main character is a genetically engineered hermaphrodite sex toy named Celsia 2 who longs to be loved by his/her owner. Oh, but wait, there's more ... there's sex starved zombies, hordes of marauding rapists, twat frogs, a hoota beasts that is basically just a big hairy vagina with legs, and still another giant talking and apparently quite wise vagina built into the wall of the mansion in which many of these creatures reside.

I'll leave you with that.

As long as you're under my roof...

You were saying?

Flowers in the Attic & Other Asorted Crap

So we're cleaning our attic. For the first time in 63 years. Yep. The crap in our attic has been through a war intact. We found stuff my late grandma left there, the grandma that remarried and moved to another town in 1981. 'Nuff said.

We brought down our old school books and my diaries and notebooks with poems. I was one fuckin' emo teenager. The one with no gift for poetry whatsoever. Maybe if I stuck with the same motive, but that was so hard, considering how I was ~eternally in love~ with a different boy every other week. I even found my first fanfiction that I wrote before I even knew the concept existed. Obviously, we're talking blatant self-insert about meeting my favourite singer at his concert, falling madly in love at first sight, ad then marrying him to be living happily ever after in his castle in Ireland. What?! It could've happened! If, y'know, he didn't decide to become a monk and is now living in some monastery in France. God has come between me and my true love! *shakes fist*

Among my favourites there was a metal pipe with two holes near one end with a wire stuck through them, apparently with no purpose whatsoever, a car tyre, and an egg - a chicken egg, as it appears. Not boiled, not artificial. A real, live, albeit rotten, egg.

Another interesting thing was this... I guess it's some kind of a scrapbook with messages from 1884. 1884!! I have no idea what they say because it's pretty much all in Hungarian, with some German. It looks really pretty, though, so I took pictures.











Hot dude is hot. LOL

The absolute winner, however, is THIS:



That, my friends, is the contraception of the early 20th century. I kid you not. The woman would stick one end of a rubber hose at the end of the little thing sticking out at the bottom, pour warm water into the container, then shove the other end of the hose into her vagina after the intercourse, and wash the sperm out.

AT LEAST NOW I HAVE SOLVED THE PROBLEM OF CONTRACEPTION TO BRING WITH ME TO KRK.

Safe sex talk

Mom: I think this year, when you go to Krk, you should bring some protection with you.
Me: I'm bringing myself with me. Trust me, that's all the protection I need.

Get Big Dick...

...and be envied by every boy in town.

~¤~ HAPPY EASTER! ~¤~

The Inappropriate Egg Stickers Edition

This little dude at least had the decency to turn around, thus hiding his ~business~ from us, the innocent by-standers.


This one, however... Well. Let's just say it's a good thing everyone in my family is an adult.