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I have few friends. I have a very few of a crew who like and almost love the kristen martin.
but you are are truely top shelf.
a 1968 Chateau Lafitte Rothschild Cab.
a n
epipahny.
I can never forget being called a narscissitic faux poet but I love you. Honestly you of all people would realize that I don't talk to just anyone. If you are not interesting to me, I do not speak to you. I give you chances to intrigue me. I bait you. If you are interesting, you bait me.
I'm too wordy.
Mainly, I am saying, that you 'black hole' (and you know who you are) my truest friend.
"here is london. here is london...."
Shall I even be so bold, but it is true because I have gone to the ipod and made it so, it is real. you know that long pausy opening and then. I am pausing until it happens... stalling so that I can type it right when it happpens. I am so nervous. here it comes.
I rest.
I lie.
I get cajoles, but I want it to be real... authentic romance beaches
here
LAST NIGHT DREAMT THAT SOMEBODY LOVED ME. NO HOPE NO HARM JUST ANOTHER FALSE ALARM...
now to look at photos of my 35th birthday. mark is at another computer in the house. greg is off walking to the grocery up montana avenue in santa monica california to replenish the lads' beer supply.
I am basting.
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