Summer dress, your hair’s wet and gets into our kisses/Can you tell why my intentions always wind up just near misses?/There’s a kindness in your smile but my sky plays fatal music/There’s the promise and the shell of great beginnings seldom finished…
It’s my birthday and we’re planning to enjoy it but I feel like I’ve begun aging exponentially. It’s not the years, it’s the mileage.
It’s my birthday in a couple days. Send nudes.
I love when Renegade Craft Fair comes around because we get to take a bunch of pics at the photo booth.
December 1, 2013: Diced hashbrown bowls topped with baked eggs and cheddar. (It was freaking AWESOME.)
So I’m back to the velvet underground/Back to the floor that I love/To a room with some lace and paper flowers/Back to the gypsy that I was/To the gypsy that I was/And it all comes down to you/Well you know that it does, well/Lightning strikes maybe once, maybe twice/Oh and it lights up the night/And you see you’re a gypsy/You see you’re a gypsy…
I’ve made a pot pie with the leftover turkey from Thanksgiving. Be jealous.
Found this script I must have written six or seven years ago. Did a little editing and rewriting tonight. It’s a pretty weird movie, I must say.
I was of the opinion that we did not gourge enough yesterday. To remedy this, for dinner I made beef con queso with Tostitos scoops and a batch of cheddar and bacon potato skins. Now we feel greasy, fat, and gross after eating all that. It was the right thing to do.
Have you been pissin’ in the wind?
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
If every angel’s terrible, why do you welcome them?
It’s Tuesday. Here’s Wesley Willis’ version of a Duran Duran song.