morrissey frink thread!
- Thread starter vivaissy
- Start date
dailyalice
Frink Squad Member
chelsey
Junior Member
Scarlet Ibis
The Chicken of D.C.
LIPS! *cries*
MyDoppelganger
Such a Nice Guy
This one is my current wallpaper 
Spyderfyngers
Sacred Wunderkind
Aha! I have this as a black and white sticker, but I'd never seen the original.
That was a seriously good hair day.
Safetyhaven
It is enough just to be.
Spyderfyngers
Sacred Wunderkind
Want book. Want boy also.
dailyalice
Frink Squad Member
M
MuteWitness616
Guest
My Morrissey!
Such a bad picture
lottie
Love Me Outside!
M
MuteWitness616
Guest
His hair, his face, his clothes.. Ew
lottie
Love Me Outside!
I see your point, and I wouldnt wanna look at it every day, but personally I love him so much I can see past all that.. and find him attractive still.
(says she who HATES him in jeans.,.
)My Morrissey!
Sorry, you'll have to share.
Are we looking at the same picture?
LOVE the hair, btw. (as much as everything else, I must admit)
Spyderfyngers
Sacred Wunderkind
Had a very frinky dream last night. Totally SFW, but frinky nonetheless.
On reflection, it was basically the storyline of DuMaurier’s Rebecca.
I was some kind of skivvy at a hotel Morrissey was staying in. I kept doing stupid things in front of him, totally unable to do my job because he was watching. I couldn’t do anything right. Morrissey decided this was terribly amusing and was giving me these “you are completely incompetent” looks designed to put me off. It worked, and I just became more and more flustered.
He made a big point of being charming and attentive to everyone in the room but me. A lot of fans came by and he’d always be lovely, but not to me. He kept looking at me with amusement and I became sadder and sadder.
I eventually approached him. “Could I…could I possibly hug you?”
Everyone else had been hugging him.
He raised his eyebrow at me. “Mm. No.”
I was totally deflated. Morrissey leant over as if to give a gift to the man standing next to me. I was sad and embarrassed, but then he smiled at me and handed the gift to me. It was a tiny silver necklace with two painted bluebirds hanging from it.
“I want you to have this.”
“It won’t go around my fat neck,” I said, and he gave me a stern look.
“Skinny neck, little necklace. Bend your head.”
I bent my head.
“More than that.”
I was sitting and he was standing. He put his hand on the back of my head and put pressure on it until my nose was smooshed into his very fine blue silk shirt. He fastened the necklace, but took his time.
I was left with the very strange dilemma of whether it was polite to have my face buried in Morrissey’s chest if he was the one who forced it there. However: Big broad chest, blue silk, firm tummy muscles, warm Moz smell. It was very real, and very frinky.
He then offered me a job. He’d been testing me to see if I was good skivvy material for when he was on the road, being as aloof as possible to see if I’d stay with him. Of course, I said yes.
He murmured into my ear - “Now you get to discover quite how disappointing a human being I am” - winked, and strolled off.
This means one of two things: 1) I’ll meet him and he’ll be a beast, or 2) I’ll end up with my face buried in his shirt and making his tea forever more.
On reflection, it was basically the storyline of DuMaurier’s Rebecca.
I was some kind of skivvy at a hotel Morrissey was staying in. I kept doing stupid things in front of him, totally unable to do my job because he was watching. I couldn’t do anything right. Morrissey decided this was terribly amusing and was giving me these “you are completely incompetent” looks designed to put me off. It worked, and I just became more and more flustered.
He made a big point of being charming and attentive to everyone in the room but me. A lot of fans came by and he’d always be lovely, but not to me. He kept looking at me with amusement and I became sadder and sadder.
I eventually approached him. “Could I…could I possibly hug you?”
Everyone else had been hugging him.
He raised his eyebrow at me. “Mm. No.”
I was totally deflated. Morrissey leant over as if to give a gift to the man standing next to me. I was sad and embarrassed, but then he smiled at me and handed the gift to me. It was a tiny silver necklace with two painted bluebirds hanging from it.
“I want you to have this.”
“It won’t go around my fat neck,” I said, and he gave me a stern look.
“Skinny neck, little necklace. Bend your head.”
I bent my head.
“More than that.”
I was sitting and he was standing. He put his hand on the back of my head and put pressure on it until my nose was smooshed into his very fine blue silk shirt. He fastened the necklace, but took his time.
I was left with the very strange dilemma of whether it was polite to have my face buried in Morrissey’s chest if he was the one who forced it there. However: Big broad chest, blue silk, firm tummy muscles, warm Moz smell. It was very real, and very frinky.
He then offered me a job.
He’d been testing me to see if I was good skivvy material for when he was on the road, being as aloof as possible to see if I’d stay with him. Of course, I said yes.He murmured into my ear - “Now you get to discover quite how disappointing a human being I am” - winked, and strolled off.
This means one of two things: 1) I’ll meet him and he’ll be a beast, or 2) I’ll end up with my face buried in his shirt and making his tea forever more.
Scarlet Ibis
The Chicken of D.C.
Oh, how lovely.Had a very frinky dream last night. Totally SFW, but frinky nonetheless.
On reflection, it was basically the storyline of DuMaurier’s Rebecca.
I was some kind of skivvy at a hotel Morrissey was staying in. I kept doing stupid things in front of him, totally unable to do my job because he was watching. I couldn’t do anything right. Morrissey decided this was terribly amusing and was giving me these “you are completely incompetent” looks designed to put me off. It worked, and I just became more and more flustered.
He made a big point of being charming and attentive to everyone in the room but me. A lot of fans came by and he’d always be lovely, but not to me. He kept looking at me with amusement and I became sadder and sadder.
I eventually approached him. “Could I…could I possibly hug you?”
Everyone else had been hugging him.
He raised his eyebrow at me. “Mm. No.”
I was totally deflated. Morrissey leant over as if to give a gift to the man standing next to me. I was sad and embarrassed, but then he smiled at me and handed the gift to me. It was a tiny silver necklace with two painted bluebirds hanging from it.
“I want you to have this.”
“It won’t go around my fat neck,” I said, and he gave me a stern look.
“Skinny neck, little necklace. Bend your head.”
I bent my head.
“More than that.”
I was sitting and he was standing. He put his hand on the back of my head and put pressure on it until my nose was smooshed into his very fine blue silk shirt. He fastened the necklace, but took his time.
I was left with the very strange dilemma of whether it was polite to have my face buried in Morrissey’s chest if he was the one who forced it there. However: Big broad chest, blue silk, firm tummy muscles, warm Moz smell. It was very real, and very frinky.
He then offered me a job.
He murmured into my ear - “Now you get to discover quite how disappointing a human being I am” - winked, and strolled off.
This means one of two things: 1) I’ll meet him and he’ll be a beast, or 2) I’ll end up with my face buried in his shirt and making his tea forever more.
I recently had a dream about him that was very vivid as well. And I worked for him too! I was his PA and his friend and we were walking somewhere in a city that was similar to Chicago. We went to a clothing shop where he was being fitted for outfits to wear on stage. He'd put on an old fashioned tux and was looking in a full length mirror. I was behind him. He smirked at himself and then said, "I look like ____." I don't remember who he had compared himself to, but it was hilarious at the time and we giggled because he was absolutely right. He did look just like ____.
Later in the dream he made me laugh again and I told him that I'm so glad I have him and he gave me a sort of half hug. I remember feeling the power of his arm at my side.
It was all very much a buddy movie. I wish it would actually happen.
