- GEExCEE
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as promised
Lol
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Oct 10, 2015 02:31
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May 21, 2024 02:14
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- GEExCEE
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it's far and away the greatest tent I've ever seen
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Oct 10, 2015 04:32
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- GEExCEE
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My favorite part is the flashlight hanging from the top
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Oct 10, 2015 04:34
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- GEExCEE
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mountain: hey
rznvgirl109: hey what's up
mountain:
mountain: u like?
rznvgirl109: wow
mountain: mm i would love u to climb me
mountain: do u have a pic
rznvgirl109: ummm
mountain: how many layers are u wearing
rznvgirl109: i gotta go bye
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Oct 17, 2015 17:41
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- GEExCEE
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mountain: hey whats up im 15million/m/co... i love to be a bottom for beautiful women who let me kiss and worship their big warm asses
biTeen268: u got skype?
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Oct 17, 2015 17:47
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- GEExCEE
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geexcee did you stay in ttouch with kilimanjaro after your brief summer fling with it
nope... 
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Oct 17, 2015 17:49
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- GEExCEE
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I could tell a story.
One time I almost got fired for refusing to kill a snake.
At the time I was working at this house:
That picture was taken in April, when the daffodils were blooming.
I was one of two full-time live-in workers on the property; the other was a carpenter, mechanic, woodsman and all-around handyman who was much older than I, and a native to the area.
In addition to feeding the daffodils (they eat bone meal) and general maintenance of the grounds, I was tasked with rehabilitating an herb and vegetable garden that had been allowed to run wild for four years prior to my arrival.
The previous holder of my post had "put the garden to sleep" (i.e. prepared the beds for the winter) by laying down a series of plastic tarps; the owner of the property, however, had moved to the other side of the country for several years, and hadn't kept the gardener on in their absence. So the tarps were neglected, and by the time I showed up the plastic was shredded into pieces and imbedded into the soil from four years of wind, rain, snow, and hail.
This in itself wasn't a big problem; the plastic was easy to remove by hand. But it had created a series of tiny tent-like structures in the weeds that a local tribe of garter snakes had made their home.
The owner of the property was (is) a great lover of the garden, and in fact had only hired me because their demanding schedule made it too difficult for them to devote the time and energy to the land that it required. But on every possible occasion they would join me, digging trenches and pulling weeds, and when they became too tired to work (they were much older than I) they would direct my labors and lend advice.
Unfortunately, they also had a deep fear of animals. Especially snakes.
After the first encounter of the season, which involved my employer shrieking like they'd been shot and fleeing the vegetable garden, I was instructed to massacre every snake I encountered. I, however, was not inclined to follow this instruction; the tiny snakes which inhabit the region in which I was employed are nonvenomous, gentle-natured, and harmless, and I did not wish to kill them.
Instead I chased them out of the garden. But my employer one day witnessed me lackadaisically nudging a snake with my shovel instead of ferociously cleaving it into two pieces, and accused me of being a "sympathizer".
They called the other handyman over from where he was weather-proofing a small shed and had him kill the snake.
I'd never seen anything writhe so horribly in my life. It was deeply unpleasant.
Relations between myself and my employer were tense for weeks afterward, though they did eventually normalize.
I was involved in the murder of a woodchuck later in the season also.
Woof.
I really liked my employer, and the garden was beautiful and varied; most of it was
it had the character of a botanical garden, containing rare plants from all over the world. Indoors there was a sunroom wherein there were beautiful flowing cacti and more fragile non-native plants.
I learned so much about flowers from my employer. Peonies were a big part of my job, during their growing season; if they aren't properly supported, their blooms will get so big that they'll snap themselves in half under their own weight, so a lot of time and energy was spent gathering and distributing proper support systems for them.
Sorry. I don't know how much reminiscing is appropriate here.
I eventually left that job, in part because I disliked killing animals I didn't intend to eat.
It felt somehow wasteful.
Anyway. That's my story.
I know it's a little different than the other ones in the thread but I hope it isn't too out of place to be a contribution.
Cool. Do you know if the house was haunted? Would you know if maybe it would be possible to get divorced there?
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Nov 11, 2015 04:18
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May 21, 2024 02:14
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- GEExCEE
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My name is Ingmar Krump. I am the caretaker of these grounds, custodian of the manor, and chief butler to Mr. Dracula.
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Nov 11, 2015 04:23
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Oct 10, 2015 02:31
