Dear HB-wanter. I've been there, and it's not what it seems. There's nothing here for you. Go chase New York, Chicago, Thailand, or one of those small towns you dream of. You shouldn't want to take my place. My sweat and crevices have been all over it. Sexy, I know, but it's not a classy look for you, wanting my life. Surely someone must love you. And nobody likes a dick.
And to whatever karmic higher power may be steering this ship: Point taken. Still, you'll never make a saint of me with that attitude. Wise ass.
Onward. Epic plans this weekend. There will be fire and music and art and gypsy clown sex orgies. I'm kidding about that last part. Sorry, pervs.
Although, you never know. I do sorta run with that crowd...
1:08 a.m. - 2009-07-17