May 20, 2009 09:16
Give me free drinks and you will find me wandering the streets of Detroit,
lost and angry for no apparent reason.
You think to yourself, 'oh no...she's wearing black lace, this can only lead to bad things'
So you follow me at a distance and then think, 'oh no, now I look like her pimp'.
I am calling my best friend.
I don't know what I am saying.
Blame it all on the absinthe.
The best kind of stories are the ones that are told back to you in the morning,
while someone is making you breakfast, they'll look at you sideways
and ask in long tones a sentence beginning with, 'So do you remember...'
And I will let out a maniacal laugh, shaking my head no I will apologize.
Last night I dreamt I was from the future and I could bring people back to life.
I was wandering through a fabric store and found Rachel Hermann, probably age 7
carrying a raccoon.