General Information

Main blog:criedmeout
Birthday:July 15th
Education:Graduate degree
Religion:Not religious
Location:United Kingdom


Height:5' 2" (157 cm)
Eyes:Dark Brown
Vision:Contact lenses
Clothing Pref.:Nude
Tattoo Info:1 - only a rare few have ever been privileged to view it.
Piercing Info:A pair on my ears. I bear the scars of 5 others scattered thereabouts.

Personal Information

Relationship Status:Single - Never Married
Family Info:At home HOME: Mom, Dad, brother, 2 dogs, 1 turtle (MIA since 1998 - come back!!), 10-20 japanese carp (my mother keeps replenishing them when they die), and a million and one goldfish and fighting fish. Fish is considered lucky in a Chinese household.. I think. At MY home: just me.
Sexual Preference:Never at dusk
Astrological Sign:Cancer (June 22 - July 22)
Existing as:Changeling
Liquor:Social drinker. One or two
Your Home:Live alone
Biography/About:A cynical idealist who dreams of romance and dirty sex in a capitalist world full of pure souls.
Likes:sexy sportscars. good conversation. gourmet food. lazy weekends in bed. cynicism. trawling through the bargains on market day. debating. sweaty sex on top of warm sheets on a cool winter's night. dancing. mint chocolate chip ice cream. watching a good movie. long warm yummy smelling bubble baths. floral scents. reading. naivete&innocence.
Dislikes:unfounded arrogance (back that shit up foo'). long queues. being stuck underneath someone's sweaty armpit on the underground during the 5pm rush hour. lies. an empty fridge. tired eyes. cold feet. stupidity. being stuck in traffic. a dirty home - no shoes in the house!. flighty frivolosity. an empty stomach. loneliness.

Personal Favorites

Four Most Recent Entries

Who the fuck cares?
Americans place far too much emphasis on weight. The British on the other hand, worry too much about what dress size they are. Who the fuck cares how much you weigh, or what clothes size you wear, as long as you look good doing it? I'll never understand that. And I'll never understand double standards - the bane of my fucking life. Fuck you.
To sleep perchance to dream.. Ay there's the rub.
I'm... confused. Slightly troubled, and yet.. content. I have never felt such at peace and at the same time, so turbulent in such a long while. Double double toil and trouble.. Fire burn and cauldron bubble..
Doctors and IVys.
So many resolutions. So many good intentions.. If I can help it, I'm never undergoing surgery. Ever. Again. Fucking doctors. Why do they always lie? "Oh this won't hurt a bit." "You'll only suffer minor discomfort, you should be fine and fit for work after the weekend." Bullshit. I hate needles. I always said in jest that was a good thing - at least it meant that my aversion to needles would keep me from ever shooting myself up. But when I have no choice... *shudders* I still remember how it felt when the anaesthesist stuck the IV in my hand. Oh. My. God. That hurt like a muthafucka. And...
My Worst Nightmare Come True.
I just realised I've turned into my mother.

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