Collarspace

I. DRINK. YOUR. MILKSHAKE!

I DRINK IT UP!
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OK. This needs to be settled at once.

Appearently - Because my profile is funny and crazy and cooky - I am a totally incompetent Dom.

First of all: I am more experienced in torture, humiliation, sadism and masochism then any other freakin Domme or Dom on this bloody site, and I did not need to Submit for 50 years to someone else to figure out how to tie a knot for myself. I STUDIED people. I studied in great and universal methods of torture, I am experienced in humiliation and I am a medical student so I know bloody well how far you can or can´t go (no OUCH, bitch, I will tell you when you are through).

My Profile is funny and cooky because I am a HUMAN FUCKING BEING. I am not an egotistical piece of shit that walks around with a stick up her ass 24.7 because I dabble in torture and may keep a few dozen boys in the basement (IE: The most amazing Mistress Layla Trixie Welcomes you to HER torture room). I am a human being, I like to have fun, BUT I am also a strict and successful Dom, I will not tolerate bullshit from a bitch I claim as mine/edit: playtime or no playtime, no bullshit/ (You know Playtime! When I shove the stick up YOUR ass?).

It also means you can confide in me, you can be my friend, you can tell me anything and, most importantly, you can TRUST me.

Now....

ONTO THE INFAMOUS PROFILE!

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LET ME HELP YOU OUTTA YOUR CHAIR, GRANDMA!

!SAVE THE OCTOPI!

Octopod wrestling is MURDER.

¨OCTOPUS.COM¨

LIST OF CURRENT FETISHES ADOPTED BY TEIKKO:

Morophilia * Scoptophilia * Troilism * Symphorophilia * Raptophiia * Gynemimetophilia * Hybristophilia * Mysophilia * Narratophilia * Pictophilia * Somnophilia * Stigmatophilia * Abasiophilia * Telephonicophilia* Trichophilia.

~?????????????????~

Mah Spoon is Too Big....

My spoon... is too big...

*I know you are waiting for a Banana to enter and scream ¨I AM A BANANA!¨ But it´s not. The Banana is dead. I killed it. It deserved that hard raping it got. That pure pwnage. Ooo... The sweet smell of it´s juice on my hands. Lo and Behold my true passions. My feeble last attempts at sanity grasping at the walls, so heavily padded. And yet... The walls...

They feel so good... Like a 16 year old emo who lies about his age, I shall flee forevermore... From the screaming father who /just/ noticed my car parked in his driveway and decided to check the sit'at'n out... That father is LIFE. And Life is screaming to drive me away from its 16 year old liar of a bitch of a son that really didn't think I would figure it out. Damnit, I say, damnit all to hell!

Oh Briton. Briton thine loyal Octopus. You be it mine only true friend now. For that Banana lays in the earth, returning that sweet honey to the air which caresses my nose with the temptation of death...*

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So now the scat freaks decide IIIII am the strange one. Like IIII am the one who has my hand under my ass when I am sitting on the can.

I am a good, decent person. I contribute to charities and take photos with autistic children who need SUPPORT and I read BOOKS and chair PAC meetings, even though I don´t have any kids and don´t even like kids (don´t you give me that look, Briton).

And now that freak at the corner of this site who paints his balls yellow and covers Hey Jude on a Kazoo outside Wal Mart for kicks, no less, is JUDGING ME?

I will find my keys, run you over, put myself in a straight jacket FAR FAR FAR away from all of you. For fear you may or may not give me an enema when I am not looking and taking photos with my little ¨special¨ friends.

You sickos.

I know, I know.Don't be hatin'.I are returdeded. Maybe. At this point, I have taken to planting carrots. No, really. Not a joke. I have a little garden happening. Currently composed of Parsley and Carrots... And perhaps a cabbage, if that works out. But I am getting UPSET at the carrots... Because they have these AMAZING green tops happening, all big and flowery... But they just are not growing INSIDE. Where it counts. All the orange-ness evades me. I have done so bloody much for those carrots, I just cant take it anymore... This one way relationship. All the abuse. *Sigh*I made a journal last night.. On 'Notes'... Its all fucked up, formatting wise. Also, have written essay on the political significance of Garden Gnomes and Barry Manilow.Life is good.~L

HOLY SHIT! I´m back! Well... I got some things I have to report to my loyal minions (The Onion People of Cha Cha Chaaa. Put your hands in the air if you are a fucking Onion). Things have been hectic lately. The weather has been shit. Pipes are bursting left and right up in this ridiculous dump of a house. I am about to go Godiva up in this shit and charge down the street wearing nothing put the stripped drywall from the basement. BUT! God takes a bit, leaves a bit.. And somehow it all evens out. Seemingly, when the Powers That Be want to make my life a living hell, after their entertainment wears thin at my distress, they toss a hot piece of ass my way and I forgive them and keep putting those bills in the collection plates. My most recent gift was this... Amazing... I mean, you could SCULPT this ass. You could eat off of this ass. You could make furniture from this ass. I followed that piece of ass up and down the aisles of Home-freaking-Depot until my overactive saliva glands took a hint and shut the fuck up (you can´t speak to the boys through a waterfall)... I hadn´t even seen his face! Just that AMAZING ass through his black denims... Everything else was insignificant, the world didn´t matter. Nor did I seem to mind that I mindlessly threw things in my cart as I went and ended up buying half the ceramic tiles they had in stock. WTF? Ceramic tiles? I don´t need fu... Nevermind. Perhaps I can construct some sort of ceramic fortress/throne for that piece of ass. Anyway.. When the ass-with-legs finally turned about, I understood the meaning of Quid-Pro-Quo.... He was no beauty queen... Not like his ass, anyway. His nose was a bit too big, but contrasted nicely on his sharp features and pale skin... Not too bad looking, but definitely not too good. Worse comes to worse, I will make him wear a paper bag, in the mean time I will pretend he is Irish and lower my standards so I can TAP THAT ALL THE WAY HOME. High-lows, High-low, she´s off to tap a ho, do doo do doo, do da doo do doo, high-lows, high-lows. ~Lynch~

Have YOU accepted Xenu as your Lord and Savior yet?

Hey Guys!Sorry for not being around a lot in the last few whiles, I was undergone with a massive tragedy and just... broken over it.A good friend and amazing human being passed January 1st at 11am, Thomas (Tommy) had battens and was overdrawn with a neurodegenerative ailment that sent him into shock during a tap and then coma. The plug was pulled on New Year´s day as a result of Doctor´s lack of faith on whether he would wake up. Battens is a fatal illness regardless of the coma, most likely if we had waited any longer, he would have passed regardless.He was an absolute angel that thought of everyone else and never his own needs, people tell me that you would have never thought he was dying with the way he acted. Always so up and optimistic about life, though he never had any luxuries himself - and I will be honest with myself and him, his entire life was nothing more then a pile of shit. It was amazing how that boy could stand tall and help everyone around him. R.I.P Tommy boy. Never forgotten.~Lynch~

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zo70cvgrV_k&feature=channel_pageTHIS HAS BEEN A BARRY MANILLOW MOMENT

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