- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- Speed of Light
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- Whenever my boss decides to let me go home. (Usually between 5-11 EST)
- Writing Levels
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Douche
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Modern, Futuristic, Paranormal, Fantasy, Medieval, Romance, Horror, pretty much everything.
I totally read that title wrong and was just totally grossed out for a second.
The weirdest thing I've ever made wasn't when I was pregnant, but when my best friend was. I was having sympathy cravings like crazy and could not get the thought of liver out of my head. I hate liver. My husband hates it even more to the point where I'm not allowed to even cook it. Yet one night I went out to the grocery store, got me some liver and cooked it up at 2 in the morning. The cashier gave me a weird look, and my husband woke up the next morning gagging. It totally wasn't worth it either. The imagined taste was much better than the reality.
The weirdest thing I've ever made wasn't when I was pregnant, but when my best friend was. I was having sympathy cravings like crazy and could not get the thought of liver out of my head. I hate liver. My husband hates it even more to the point where I'm not allowed to even cook it. Yet one night I went out to the grocery store, got me some liver and cooked it up at 2 in the morning. The cashier gave me a weird look, and my husband woke up the next morning gagging. It totally wasn't worth it either. The imagined taste was much better than the reality.