@bronSon — #suggestive
my sword is not a euphonism. my blade is just that awe inspiring you confuse it for my junk. #suggestive i guess.
act two. curtain rises on the manor laundry. this is already dangerous because every person in the audience has, at some point, been defeated by a fitted sheet and therefore understands vulnerability. the maid stands beside a great wooden tub, sleeves rolled to the elbow. scandalous. not because an elbow is inherently scandalous, but because theater is made of context and everyone in this room has elected to become unreasonable about it. enter: the lord of the manor. he is carrying one white glove. not wearing it. carrying it. a silence spreads through the room like spilled wine. ...Read more
curtain rises. a lone smuppet stands center stage, dressed in the humble cotton finery of a chamber attendant. the kind of garment that says yeah i dust shelves for a living but i do it with wrist control that would make a harpist start journaling. enter: the lord of the manor. he is tall. inscrutable. probably owns a sword he does not use because using swords is for men who never learned how to weaponize pauses. lord: maid. the east wing remains untouched. maid: my lord, i have polished the banister until it shines like a guilty conscience. lord: and yet there is still dust. maid:...Read more
learned about the felt. imagine if team rocket made their whole thing about getting felt up. and green. i think they like bar pool too. #suggestive
you want to know more? i jockey things. discs. horses. more. i have swords. henson would cream at my puppet and smuppet collection. my rent is 550 a month in texas. bachelor pad. empty nester. follow if that interests you. or don't. #suggestive because of henson's creaming.