Monday, July 20, 2015

"My man"

I'm very fond of this man, and for now, I wouldn’t want to be going through– doing this journey with anyone else. I also have consumed an unhealthy amount of chocolate today and I’m now facing the (emotional) consequences. I also just said the phrase “my man” in my head, and it feels damn good.

Friday, July 3, 2015

I’m captivated by many men,

totally & utterly in love with a few…
I never speak of these things to them & my feelings fester…
I so willingly give my love away to each, at their beckoning call, but I’ll never grow empty…
I have so much inside.
Be mine, all of you.

Friday, June 12, 2015

New York City, oh what you do to me…

Being a Southern girl, I must admit, I had my preconceived notions about New York City; I just recently came back home from New York City, I must say I miss it very much already. I miss the smell of cheap perfume and expensive cologne intertwined in the air by the many people who walk around in such a rush, a rush to proceed, to prosper, to hustle. Seeing men who look at a woman as if she’s a goddess and most of all men in suits. Women who walk with fur coats and pearls that embrace their neck like a child grasping onto their mother's breast. I miss absolutely everything, from the hustle and bustle to the elegance and class from an elderly woman's taste in clothing on Park Ave. The quick tongues that gnash out at you if you’re walking too slow or you’re simply in the way, To the friendly smile and urban warm hearts that welcome you with a cup of coffee. The Spanish, French, British, Irish, even Italian accents that linger so boastfully down the streets, Either joy or clarity, almost as a chorus they speak. This city is an absolute melting pot in which one day, I hope to visit again real soon.

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

She-Crab Soup from The Mutiny

2 tablespoons butter, divided
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 cup milk
1 1/2 cups half & half cream
4 teaspoons finely-grated onion
3/4 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
Salt and white pepper to taste
1/4 teaspoon ground mace
1/4 teaspoon red (cayenne) pepper
1/4 teaspoon grated lemon zest (rind)
1 1/2 pounds flaked blue crab meat*
1/4 cup crab roe**
3 tablespoons dry sherry
1 tablespoon finely-chopped fresh parsley leaves

* If you live in parts of the country where blue crab is not available, other types of crabmeat, such as Dungeness, snow, king, or rock crab, may be substituted.

** Two crumbled hard-cooked egg yolks may be substituted for the crab roe.

In a large, heavy pot over low heat, melt butter; add flour and blend until smooth. Slowly add milk and half & half cream, stirring constantly with a whisk; cook until thickened. Add onion, Worcestershire sauce, salt, white pepper, mace, cayenne pepper, and lemon zest. Bring just to a boil, stirring constantly. Reduce heat to low, add crabmeat and crab roe or crumbled hard-cooked egg yolks; simmer, uncovered, for 5 minutes (if the soup appears about to boil, remove the pan from the heat for a minute or so, then return). Remove from heat and add sherry, stirring to mix. Let sit for 3 to 4 minutes before serving.

To serve, pour the soup into individual heated soup bowls, dividing the crabmeat and roe equally into each bowl. Sprinkle with parsley and serve immediately.

The Mutiny: 2951 S. Bayshore Drive, Coconut Grove, Florida 33133 |

Friday, May 15, 2015

The King is dead. Long live the King.

RIP B.B. King. Another legend passes and we are increasingly beset with mediocrity posing as greatness. Makes me want to vomit....anyway, rest easy, good sir, you will be sorely missed.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Text adventures #3

Him: This is how I want you.
I want the color of your lips in my teeth. I want to suck the flavor of your tongue. I want to lick that pretty little smile right off of your face.
I want my hands pressed into every part of you. I want to paint you in fingerprints. I want to grab handfuls of you and stuff you into my mouth. I want you in my fists.
I want to smell you like an animal, filling my lungs with your scent, then lap at you. I want to root into you. I want to kiss your cunt like I kiss your starving mouth. I want a devourment. I want to swallow you.
I want the inside of you. Where I live. Where I belong. I want the lewd meat of you. I want to be wrapped in your throbbing. I want to make you slosh and quiver. I want to feel you need me in you, even when it hurts, especially when it hurts. I want you with a cock that strains against the very skin that contains it.
I want you with reverence and raw greed. I want to fall on my knees in worship, slathering myself in your sacrament. I want to bludgeon and barrel into you, punishing you for my sin. I want to make you a place of reckoning.
This is how I want you.

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Text adventures #2

me: if you were to associate me with a colour, what colour would it be?

him: i associate you with 2 different types of black: dominatrix boots black and sheer, lacey underwear black, deep wine (lipstick) red, and iridescent white from a gold plated revolver

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

In the background playing Touch by Klemmer, and I feel as if I’m in the mid 70’s. I feel playful yet sensual. You come home and I’m dancing smoothly, my slight grin indicating join me. Lights, laughter, and lust entwined with a bit of whiskey. I feel sexy, and yours.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

I wish I could have had you before losing you

I should’ve been flesh when words seemed too spoiled, been words when the flesh could not stand the fire anymore. 

I should’ve been fire, my love, when you needed to burn. 

But then, there you are: a picture between the fragrant pages of a notebook. 

What can I do for you?

I try to find you in others. It is always you that I’m looking for.

Is there someone I think about? Yes.

Real connections don’t just fade away with time or are diluted by new passions. They eventually draw a line in which every new connection awakens the old one, every now and then, like a mark. Some people are inevitable to you, whether you want it or not.


It never stops, the wanting of you. I don’t suppose it ever will. Distance, time, disposition… It never matters. You. What I want is you. Now.

Saturday, April 18, 2015

One of the many things I love about my father is that whenever he sees that I’m bored or just in a dull mood he always invites me out to drink tea with him. He takes me to my favorite bakery shop where they serve the most fantastic teas and drinks, or better yet, he invites me back to my parents' house and he makes us both a cuppa at home, and we just drink our favorite tea and we just talk. It’s so simple, yet it manages to put me in such a better mood. I love those moments. But most importantly, I love my pa!

Thursday, April 16, 2015

How I’d love to lay my head on your lap and look straight into your eyes with a slight grin, while your hands steer me into the next direction. No begging.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

About me

Kate's Personality Report via Learnmyself

What is it that you want?

Receiving this question gave me a window of opportunity to really  express what I want, what I need: I want to start school again. I want to walk Park Ave again, which I miss dearly. I want to walk it wearing a trench coat around 6 o’clock with Falls’ winds. I want New York. New York’s snow. I want to be alone in beautiful bookshops while getting stares. Yet I want California. I want men with tattoos and motorcycles. I want to wear my pin curls more. I want black. I want to reread Bonjour Tristesse, which is another thing I miss. I also want to feel as if I’m in Hemingway’s Garden of Eden at those beautiful locations wearing espadrilles. I want beautiful lighting. I want to watch "Midnight in Paris" again. I want private adventures with genuinely good hearted people (for once in my life). I want to delete this blog and actually start living what I reblog and write about. I want to live a happy, passionate, luxurious, successful, and artistic life.

Thank you.

My personality profiles

Text adventures #1

I asked him...

Me: "Why are you afraid of me?"
Him: "You're beautiful, classic, sexy, nasty, naughty, fly, smart, you have great taste, you're talented, you can cook, your pussy is so fucking good. The way you fuck is an art. I mean you garden, for God's sake. Women like you are dangerous. They make lesser men lose their minds. They bring great men & kingdoms to ruin....but, they can also make lesser men great & inspire already great men to be immortal."
Me: "That shit made my day."
Him: "You asked, I told you."

I abuse my power as a woman and I have no intention of stopping. I eat men for protein.

Saturday, March 28, 2015

The older bookstore man

For some reason I can’t stop thinking about the older man at the book store. I liked his confidence. I liked that he asked me questions. He asked as if he was interested. I was nervous. He probably detected it...but he was charming. I liked the feel of his presence. I liked the smile he gave me as I left.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

BDSM test results

== Results from ==
83% Girl/Boy
70% Primal (Prey)
66% Non-monogamist
63% Vanilla
58% Submissive
54% Exhibitionist
53% Primal (Predator)
52% Brat
41% Switch
41% Voyeur
38% Experimentalist
38% Slave
34% Degradation Receiver
25% Masochist
20% Bondage Receiver
17% All-Rounder
15% Brat Tamer
11% Degradation Giver
9% Dominant
8% Sadist
4% Bondage Giver
4% Daddy/Mommy
0% Master/Mistress
0% Pervert
See my results online at

Friday, February 27, 2015

On knowing someone.

I don’t think that you can truly know someone until you have fucked them, I mean really fucked them, only then will their little hidden personality traits reveal themselves, only then will you see their true colours.

Friday, January 30, 2015

Another man that I've apparently enchanted, when I asked him what my aesthetic is...

He said that my aesthetic is of "myrrh and pomegranates, gold ceilings and saints, the Virgin Mary blue as the Mediterranean, old stone churches, lime trees, night open air cafes, sepia photographs of elegant grandfathers"...his words conjure a sort of embellished nostalgia, a sensuous daydream. How fortunate I am to experience such rapture at the blessing of his words.

My political typology results

Saturday, January 10, 2015

One of my gentlemen friends told me the other day...

...that he dreamt of a woman sitting on a deep rouge upholstered sofa, a highball glass filled with Flor de CaƱa rum sweetened with Agave nectar and garnished with a clove, voices worn out by cigarettes and the late hour. What an atmosphere...what a woman...he imagined that she was me. That this was my aesthetic. Men. Such glorious creatures. <3