Category: pics

It’s time for quiet now.

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The Golfer ignored this.

Just a few things running through my mind today:

Working out for three months, moving, shopping for new furniture, my career, friends, Mens, sex and losing it, drinking, loneliness, excitement, determination, hope, warmth, longing, anger that I keep seeing my fucking ex-boyfriend everywhere I go on my apartment property, why I care that The Golfer won’t text me back and why Peter is being a dipshit, my dog might be too fat like me, how I caught two women at the party saying complimentary things about my looks so I must not be a troll, smoking again a little, the married British man trapped on a Fourth of July holiday hahaha, becoming friends with The Vet, chatting with my mom like a normal person, missing my baby who’s so far away, only one more week to go!, tomorrow is the beginning of the second half, a fresh start, that curry makes my belly ache, I can’t wait to be done with Cheers and move on to Frasier, I am both lonely and ok.

Thank you for being here with me and for me, guys. Internet Boyfriends are really the only boyfriends worth having anyway.

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Friday, June 28th, is Boobday!

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Hy tits banner in black and white v neck t shirt

I had the worst fucking dream last night and I wonder if it had anything to do with my last thoughts last night about clarity and boundaries. I’ll post it in a minute – it has no place here.

In other news, I bought my tickets to London! I watch fares on an app called Hopper (I highly recommend it) and use my CapitalOne Venture card for everything to earn miles. My flight is under $500 and will be erased with my reward miles I’ve earned this year. Woohoo!!

And today is the last Boobday of Every Damn Day in June! Which makes it all the more funny that I’d forgotten all about it. Again. I swear if my head weren’t attached…

Love you all!

Fucked up dream to be posted shortly…

xx

Hy

Full Boobday Guidelines here.

One of two ways to participate:

1) either submit a pic to me via email (hyacinth.jones@hotmail.com) OR

2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.

Also, just as a reminder:

If you send me a pic, be sure to tell me if you want to be anonymous or not and what your pseudonym is (if you have one or I gave you one)

Tell me why you chose the photo you sent

And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts! This is all about spreading the love!

My tits:

Hi, how ya doin’?

::

NOT my tits:

Miss B enjoying herself.

I thought I would submit something different than a bra picture.  I’ve discovered in the past 10 years that I am a Masochist on taking pain, although not humilation.  I’m grateful that I have breasts that can be enjoyed in a consensual relationship.  

::

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::

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I’m thick and needy.

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Se t these to The Golfer. Three guesses as to his response.

Curvy as fuck.

See my bruises?? ON MY ARM, you pervert!

Baby bruise right there.

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Mammograms are important.

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First nudie pic I’ve taken in recent memory is [fittingly] during a cancer-screening appointment. That should tell you something about my sex life.

Before the grabbing and pulling.
After the smooshing, all plump and warm. The mammographer said I “had a lot of ‘pack’,” which means my breast tissue is dense and makes for pretty pictures and high fives. Also makes it harder to find cancer…

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I survived a very long, boring day.

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I woke up before dawn and took Peyton to a swim meet.  I ran around for a few hours and hit my 5000 steps by 11 am.  And then it was over and my ex took my baby back home to his house and I was left to my own devices.

I ran errands, got stuck in that weird Target shut down (which saved me $150, actually, so thank you, Target!), and window-shopped for hours on my phone like my life depended on it.  I sorted through important life documents, did a few chores around the house, loved on the dog.

And I was thoroughly, completely bored.  I mean, so bored.

But, I managed to not do a few things, too.

I didn’t prowl for men, I didn’t hit up men I already know, and I didn’t mindlessly eat or drink.

So while I was devastatingly bored, I was also busy.

Busy sitting with my discomfort, busy trying to manage my need to be around people, busy getting organized.  Basically, I was busy making better choices for myself for a change.

And it’s 11:53 and I’m going to post just under the wire and day dream about London and about being like the couple I saw come home an hour ago from my perch on my balcony.  She ran up behind him and wrapped her arms around him and he turned into her and kissed her even as they kept walking to their apartment.  The cicadas seemed to chirp with delight at the little show of affection.

I haven’t felt that kind of abandon with someone in years, the freedom to show that kind of fairy-dust-affection and guilelessness.  Maybe soon…

Shit, it’s 11:56.  Better hustle!

It’s been a minute.

 

Sinful Sunday

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I really don’t have anyone.

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For the first time since November of 2010 I don’t have a single person to send a nude to.  For real. Nada, no one, zilch.  Why?  Because no one deserves one, frankly.

I’m trying to keep a stiff upper lip (and resolve) about the men in my life.  I just keep hearing what I posted yesterday in my mind, “I can only make everyone else’s life so easy before I just call myself a doormat with a pussy,” and it’s keeping me from doing the thing I always do, which is to wait long enough until I’m efficiently inoculated to the terrible behavior I’ve suffered at their hands and reach out.

I do it with men, I do it with my family, I do it with friends.  I do all the labor, all the time.

That’s not to say I’m perfect – far from it – but I show up and I follow through without fail every time and with every one.  I’m also sweet, apologetic, and admit fault immediately if there is any at my feet. My biggest fear is that if my requirement for someone to get in my pants – or my life – is to actually be present and weather their own terrible behaviors like I do mine, then I may be alone forever.

Then again, “Doormat with a pussy.” Ugh.

I may be the most enlightened, hard up and lonely I’ve ever been in my life.  I want to cry, call everyone up and apologize and make plans and fuck fuck fuck like it was my last day on earth, epiphany be damned!!

But I won’t.

I don’t think I can and while that’s exciting on the one hand (yay, growth!), it’s totally terrifying on the other (boo, scary unknown!).

In the meantime, please send noodz; this attention whore needs as many friends as she can get.

If a nude is taken with no one to see, does it make a dick hard?

 

 

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Friday, April 5th, is Boobday!

Posted on

Hy tits banner in black and white v neck t shirt

Apologies for the late posting, but none of my shit was cooperating – still no clue what’s going on, but it just took foreverrrrrrr for everything load and open and blah blah blah, blah blahbityblah.

But here it is!  The linky tool changed, so if there are any glitches, lemme know.

I’ve been vegging out on the couch all day re-watching the last season of Game of Thrones.  Fuck, that show is good.

Also, I feel like Goldilocks.  The bed is always either too hard or too soft…

Love you all!

xx

Hy

 

Full Boobday Guidelines here.

One of two ways to participate:

1) either submit a pic to me via email (hyacinth.jones@hotmail.com) OR

2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.

Also, just as a reminder:

If you send me a pic, be sure to tell me if you want to be anonymous or not and what your pseudonym is (if you have one or I gave you one)

Tell me why you chose the photo you sent

And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts! This is all about spreading the love!

 

My tits:

Black and white photo of Hyacinth leaning over a white bed in only her white lace underwear
Just leaning in…

NOT my tits:

 

Sandy making me want to where checkers, too!

Someone went home shirtless ?

::

Miss B rocking her gifts.

The attached picture is a beautiful handmade bra I received last week as a gift. I’m looking forward to wearing it under the sheer blouse picture I submitted for Boob Day last week.

::

 

 

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Click here to enter

Friday, March 1st, is Boobday!

Posted on

Hy tits banner in black and white v neck t shirt

Ahhhhhh, March!  In 13 days I’ll board a plane and cross the Pond and land in my fairy tale land, London Town.  Ten days later I’ll board another plane, cross back over the Pond and cry my eyes out as I return to real life.

It would also appear that my time doing February Photo Fest got me back in fine blogging form seeing as I had this post at middle midnight!

Let the countdown begin to the best part of my year!

xx

Hy

 

Full Boobday Guidelines here.

One of two ways to participate:

1) either submit a pic to me via email (hyacinth.jones@hotmail.com) OR

2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.

Also, just as a reminder:

If you send me a pic, be sure to tell me if you want to be anonymous or not and what your pseudonym is (if you have one or I gave you one)

Tell me why you chose the photo you sent

And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts! This is all about spreading the love!

Feels good to be back in a selfie.

NOT my tits:

Miss B basking in the sun.
This photo was taken on my home balcony on a very cool day by my photographer boyfriend.  It was a quick picture!

::

 

I reallllly wish we could see Sandy in that reflection, too.

Post workout boobs


I’m dunzo.

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Cried in therapy about my sadness today.

She doesn’t know why no one wants to date me. Four men in my whole life have ever wanted to and obviously none of those were the best fit. Hundreds have wanted to fuck me, though. They’re lining up practically.

“If they actually knew you, Hy, they’d want to! Not that they’d know you like I do, but…” her voice trailed off. “But you are so sexy and so big. I don’t think most men can handle it.”

Her little blue eyes sparkled at me surrounded by wrinkles.

“Everyone wants to date Hy,” I said, “and that’s the real me. I just don’t know how to get anyone to get to know me in real life.

“I don’t have any opportunities. Work isn’t an option and when I don’t have Pey I work long hours. All I have is online – like everyone else – but how can anyone know me in one date or in 4 weeks? It’s all set up for me to be meaningless to them.

“Look at Early Afternoon Lunch Guy. There’s a reason I didn’t program him in to my phone. What’s the fucking point??”

I began to tear up when I told her I’d programmed my Saturday night lay into my phone.  The Golfer.  His real name is almost a “Chad.”

We’ve been sexting a little. An auspicious start to nothing, I’m sure. Nothing says “future relationship,” like, “I want your cumm [sic].”

Peace out.
February Photofest

It’s the day before the last.

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And it’s gonna end on a whimper.

February Photofest