SEXY ASKS - Send an ask for...

Mouth - I want to talk with you

Arms - I want to hug you

Lips - I want to kiss you

Genitalia - I want to have sex with you

Teeth - I want to nibble you

Nipples - I want to put your nipples in my ear

Shoulders - I want to play aggressive football with you

Ears - I want to listen to your nipples

Medulla Oblongata - I want to regulate muscle contraction in order to properly oxygenate your blood

Needle puncture in the second or third intercostal space, along the mid-clavicular line: I want to expand your collapsed lung

Tongue - I want you to lick my nipples using your toes

Toes - I want you to lick my nipples

Second set of nipples - I want you to pierce them and then affix strings to the piercings and then tie intricate knots with the strings

Shoulder-blades - I want to cuddle with you

Shoulder-swords - I want to cuddle inside of you

Seeth-glands - I want to digest glass without severe indigestion

Autoreticular Reflex - I want to divert your i-stream band into mine

Intricate birthmark of yours that just started searing and growing - I want to transcend physical realities and become the leaders of impossible armies and take the very concept of Glory itself - with you <3

A. Pons Varoli. B. Medulla oblongata. C. Cerebellum (left hemisphere).

The medulla oblongata controls autonomic functions, and connects the higher levels of the brain to the spinal cord. It is also responsible for regulating several basic functions of the autonomic nervous system which include:

Respiration – chemoreceptors

Cardiac center – sympathetic, parasympathetic system

Vasomotor center – baroreceptors

Reflex centers of vomiting, coughing, sneezing, and swallowing


There is a song the body sings to itself
     about time’s arrow, that has pierced
Its sentimental shining heart: about the eternal
     flow of fire over the medulla oblongata,
And the oceanic backwash of lymph
     in the cells’ interstices. Call that song an angel.
Call it space. The body sings, and does not know
     or care about the corrosive dark matter
Sealed in burial urns. The body sings, and when it stops
      for breath, nothing sings back its harmony.

T. R. Hummer, "Maria Ranier Rilke, 1875-1926," from Urn: Poems (Diode Editions, 2014)