following up my reblog of Amanda’s post, and today’s reblog by Around the Grid, I just remembered something that happened to me during the last week. You see I’ve been contacted by a skin store and by John of the very famous Kultivate magazine.
Ultimately both collaborations didn’t come to pass, since I’m not willing/capable of satisfying my wannabe partners’ expectations (I don’t have a mesh/bento body to fit the new skins on and am not nearly kultivated enuff to be an artists blogger) and also – much more important – I have no time for such frivolities since I’m always super duper busy making the world a better place. And that takes top priority, doesn’t it?
So they both dumped me before negotiations even got started. Pheeew, almost became a corporate drone but got away by a hairbreadth. 😉
And if you’re asking yourself why the fuk is Orca blogging her nonsense at this time of the morning and why’s she not in the gym morphing her body into pretzel shape, well, uh … It’s cold out, probably the coldest phase of deep winter, and not the least little bit inspiring to drive up to the gym in my unheated van. That’s what life in Africa makes of you, a softee, a whimp. Yes, when I was younger, like much younger, like a quarter of my recent age, I would ride my bicycle to school every morning, in the worst temperatures, wearing the miniest of mini skirts. Think more like a wide belt plus fishnet stockings. 🙂 But you maybe know how teenie girls are. No action is too stupid, nothing is an excuse to not be your sexiest punk. You know that was still a thing in the late 70s. Well, today I’m an old hag and only care about my snuggly warmth and comfyness. 🙂 And when you need to scrape ice of the windscreen … in fuking Africa … that’s where the fun stops!