(no title)

Dry Whiskey: Long Live The ALPHA Male.

Whiskey glasses and pending apologies, may our downfall be our quest to redemption. The Old Gods will return.

As though a raging wind were howling through the cracks within the walls…

Cravings and aches. Uncontrollable hunger…I live in torment.

The testosterone is high and the bourbon’s on standby.

I want to be rich. Rich in love, rich in health, rich in laughter, rich in adventure and rich in knowledge. You?

Musings and angst of a free spirited, tattooed female dividing time between the UK and New York.

Finding clever solutions* to tricky problems since forever

A safe haven for personal expression

Once a foster child, Always a foster child