(no subject)
I can't take another full week without a mass of sweaty, writhing bodies. Pity Goldfinger isn't on tour.
I guess this will have to do. I will be there on Friday night. (It's cheap with the right clothes, and it'd be good to take advantage of the nearness to Boston of this job-that's-ending.) I will probably be in Cambridge or Porter Square or some other place-to-eat sometime before then.
Plan yet to be nailed down. My userinfo has an email address if you want details/number of my escort's cell phone.
The last leg of my last trip back from Australia was rerouted to Boston. I was crying with exhaustion and knew I had to inform my parents of my whereabouts. I desperately asked my fellow passengers if I could borrow their mobile. I quite agree with the guy in Pulp Fiction: it's the little differences that get you. This non sequitor brought to you by Postvixen's magic loquacity pills. (You put one in my raw meat this morning, didn't you, little vixen!) Writing this much feels gooooooooooooooooood. Too hyper to sit still. I could go to lunch and run into the woods. I ought to get office clothes that repel water, mud, brambles . . . not that I care, but someone here would.
I guess this will have to do. I will be there on Friday night. (It's cheap with the right clothes, and it'd be good to take advantage of the nearness to Boston of this job-that's-ending.) I will probably be in Cambridge or Porter Square or some other place-to-eat sometime before then.
Plan yet to be nailed down. My userinfo has an email address if you want details/number of my escort's cell phone.
The last leg of my last trip back from Australia was rerouted to Boston. I was crying with exhaustion and knew I had to inform my parents of my whereabouts. I desperately asked my fellow passengers if I could borrow their mobile. I quite agree with the guy in Pulp Fiction: it's the little differences that get you. This non sequitor brought to you by Postvixen's magic loquacity pills. (You put one in my raw meat this morning, didn't you, little vixen!) Writing this much feels gooooooooooooooooood. Too hyper to sit still. I could go to lunch and run into the woods. I ought to get office clothes that repel water, mud, brambles . . . not that I care, but someone here would.