I'm in some fleapit motel off Route 66 somewhere outside of Barstow and the only sound I can hear is the traffic on the highway and the sluggish beat of my own heart. I have a half-empty bottle of tequila on the nightstand and my laptop on my knee. The sheets smell of stale sweat, the soap's been used and there are crumbs of something ground into
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And really, besides that, I didn't know what to say. It doesn't happen very often.
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I'm feeling pretty spoiled with all the amazing actresses commenting in my journal lately.
*cough* Okay, please forgive me for that shameless fanboy moment...
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Ah, then I shall have to comment more often so you can get used to it.
It's endearing, really. I'm sure I'll have many fangirl moments once you give me some time for everything to register.
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