Today we have a new story coming, the first chapter of a semi-series, its frequency depending on the commissioner.
It is as usual quite a filthy one~ And you have, as always, been warned~.

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Today we have the conclusion to last week's story, when all comes to a boiling point, how will our Diamond Dog react?

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Soon enough might get this supported, then there will be more stories able to crafted, but until then I think I Will enjoy what this site has to offer, to sample some of the culture, and a mouthful of grass.

Happy September to all~.

but no, there is no event for this this year.

Darkness lies deepest in the greatest abscent of light. Much is never cast in illumination, leaving untold secrets hidden; secrets hidden forever, or just before the rise of the sun.

Happy filthy Friday~.

Almost time for a birthday around here, and when there is a birthday there needs to be a party packed to the cheek bursting amount of joy and fun, but that takes some planning for those not equipped with party artillery~

But there might be a gift for everyone as well, but for that you have to stick around the updates for the other profiles~

Have a Fantastic Filthy Friday out there~.

Wash your hands for 30 seconds.

Humble worm. Grateful for your service.
Humble worm. We offer our thanks.
Humble worm. For were it not for you.
Humble worm. Our world would lack order.
Though through thoughtless tactics, thou tremors traverse terrain throughout. The wriggling grease which lubricates the cogs of evolution.
Humble worm. The world has much to thank you for.
Yet, worm remains humble.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

Greetings, hey, what's up, who is up? Are you still up?

Well something is up.
and that something is a story, first in a short series featuring Pinkie pie.

Strange enough it is also fitting, because the story involves those hiding away from the cold to have a party, and it is still really cold and sneaking off to a get together sounds great right now~.

Despite being slice of life it has some strong lewd and kinky aspects to it as well.

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Another month has swept in over us, and it is none other than may. Ahhh, may, the time where the sun allows us to partake of its grace, when (tasty) grass begins to grow and it is warm enough to consummate a relationship outdoor.
Magical times indeed.

However, is the sun always benevolent?
Is it only goodness, or does it sport other facets?

Perhaps we will answer these questions next week...

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And this marks the end of the change event, the last story of the series.
There is a lot changing still, despite this. Though little in the realm of the pastel prettied ponies.

Today's story involves odd transformations, and deception of self. Corruption into new understandings and realisations. When you think about it, that is something we all go through.

For now, this story is going to mark the end for this series, but a continuation is not impossible. It will just not come soon.

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How long does a life progress without building on the foundation of another? Life primarily exists as it is fueled more life, at the very least, it is an effective system for beings of higher cognitive function. Is it noble to aspire to such heights, knowing the stepping stones one has trod upon?
And yet, all stand on the shoulders of giants.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

Greetings one and all,
sometimes while you stroll down the highway of life, you stop and look around you, there you can see the wheat fields of life, life's savanna, the lively mountains and not-so-lively forest, just a second of contemplation leads you into thinking of just how much life is made up from.
But then you have to return to walking down the road.

Have a wonderful Filthy Friday~.

A chance is a dangerous prospect, and something not to be missed. With one blow you cleave a tree trunk, or your ankle. A moments thought can leave a lifetime of worry, or be one step forgotten on the road to success. Each decision melds into one another, each cause and effect blending with it. Until the point, where many experience it as a mere, neutral, grey.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Is the wander down the road of life mandatory? Is it an undeniable urge seeded within the infant before its conception? Is it the common goal of a grand subconscious? Perhaps it is not a choice, perhaps we cannot leave the path. Kept on it by the machinations of an affecting force.
Or perhaps it does not exist until it is viewed. The moment the veil is pulled and we look down, we become able to see the road for what it is.
Until then, let us keep gazing at the overhang of stars.

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Wash your hooves, and get some candy ready~. You never know who will come visit.

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If the moon was a lake would the heavens be an ocean?
Yet a lake is but a drop to the vast expanse of space.
If the moon then was a lake,
I'd be content to dip in a drop,
and leave the vastness above as the sky.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Dark, is the road, stretching beyond our vision. Few see its end, some are wise to it, yet once you have reached that point, your journey is set to change. Wherever we saunter, endings come. Even our time on the road. Thoughts to be considered, but not consumed by.

Today's post brought to you by the absent of the mark after K, because sometimes keyboards break.

Have a Great Fithy Friday~.

What a day this is, more and more people out on the street, less people sitting at home, the grass it actually growing again as well, so that is neat.

At the moment there are no new stories. However... Something big is on the horizon...

Something, very big.

Happy Friday~.

Wash your hands~.

To seek gemstones one does not uncover glimmer and scintillant forms. There lay not grandeur nestled beneath your feet, waiting for a palm to reach it. A gem is as its element, dirt. Rocks and filth crust it, dulled to a point where treasure hunters would pass it by. But one who truly seeks gemstones is patient, meticulous, and pours in the effort to polish rocks into things of beauty.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Days pass as footsteps, the prints on the road below us, those we never get to see, which we never experience fully. Each step precedes another, always a focus on the new, yet all we see of the days are the diffuse outlines we entertain within our recollection. Even if we were to turn, the past of the road is shrouded, cast in dusk of neglect. Yet, many spends their days marveling at this very abyss, while others could care less, for the road is unending, and there are always more steps to be

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What is dance? A celebration of life and togetherness? A gesture to the elements? A distraction? It functions this way, as many tasks do. The practitioner is engulfed in the act, disappearing into their focus. At the same time, they rob the focus from the watcher, interlocking them in a chain of distractive influence, allowing the world around them to fade away. To dance then, is meaningless.
However, the first interpretation was right on the money.

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