I'm going completely off the beaten path for one entry, but whatever. Deal with it. So, my father is incredibly picky when it comes to food. Not only in the sense that he eats an incredibly limited selection of foods, but he only likes the foods he does eat a certain way. He abhors change in all things, and this becomes a huge issue when it comes to recipes from his family. There is one cake recipe I have from his grandmother, which was his favorite thing ever. I made it for Lux for his birthday last year, with a from scratch mocha frosting that we loved. The old man bitched the entire time about it having a frosting, and how the fact that it didn't have a glaze meant that I had fucked it up. I made another one for the hell of it shortly after, to use up some excess ingredients in the fridge. I went to make a glaze, and my mother walked in and decided to take over. After making a ton of bad decisions, and me explaining to her why everything she was doing was wrong, sh
My life is such an odd and surreal rollercoaster of kink, mischief, body modification and wonderment. Read along, and see the new pages of the journey that is my life, with all the sex, trouble, friends, family, pain, and adventure.