Ok, it's been a minute, but I've been busy and entangled. Talked to ex-girl and tried to clear the air and put the past behind and all the usual water under the bridge stuff, meh didn't go so well. Anyway, suffice it to say we don't have to be friends. Ces't la vie I tried taking the high road but I hold no grudges.
Also, the radio show stuff is starting to come together. I've decided to elicit some help from John, that way I can get enough material to keep going and we can do a show together and we'll both make some extra dough. I'm happy with this arrangment. I just wish our music would pull together a bit more quickly. We have the talent and the ideas to make this work.
She drags me, shabu shabu across couch embers. Raw Octopi embranglements. I am the obesity by which she finds sleep. Or does sleep find her? She chooses goosey hand, liver fat and elbows to be her vital victuals. Mine. She wonders if I bore easily. I wonder if I'm boring. "You don't have to fall for him." Oops. I didn't have to fall for her. Oops. Already old together and stiff backed park-isms. Her skin, sweated and squashy. Salaciousness maker. Oh, to be one of the marshmellows stuck to her bum or "The things I'd do to her." I appreciate her. Thoughts