I get the musicgeek newsletter and the guy in charge is named Derek and every time the newest email hits my inbox I think of a bearded Derek Hale in soft flannel shirts and six year old jeans sitting in his rolling chair at his desk, carefully…
This started out innocently enough: We wanted to do Sandwich Saturday, a day wherein we ate nothing but sandwiches. Sandwiches for breakfast, little snack sandwiches, etc. and we wanted to make it an annual event.
But what happens when you get a lawyer and a linguist in the same room? They want to define things. I’m writing a legal memo on this and Sharla actually turned this into a project for her master’s program and part of it involves crowdsourcing the question.
With all that said: TUMBLR YOU ARE OUR ONLY HOPE! Take this survey, reblog it, and let us know your thoughts.
“I just want to be kissed. I want to be held at the waist and split open by someone’s mouth until I am no longer whole. I want to forget where I am, why I am there, how I got there in the first place. I want to be pressed up against walls, pinned against floors, and reclined against counters.
A good kiss is a performance—an event.
Nothing matches the way your blood pulses under your skin when someone leans in to kiss you—reaches for your heart with their mouth—and holds on to your body like they are a blind man and you are a slippery rock face. Nothing compares to someone who pays attention to how you kiss them and knows that just like love—we all kiss the way we want to be kissed.