Updating is for housewives and little girls...
Haven't done this for a while, so's I thought I'd fill you in. Got a great apartment, now furnished and I wish I could invite you all for a wine 'n dine, but getting you all into one room? I don't think I'd ever get the smell out of the curtains... Listen to me, curtains? Right now I've got my bathrobe blocking the eternal sunshine in my bedroom. I never said I was a classy lassy, awright?
Last week I spent in purge-atory. Yes, I did mean to say that. My body at one point figured that it could do without substance and purged everything from my system. I don't know where this virus came from, but I'm sure that there was fire and brimstone. That's right. Mexico. Really I don't know where I got it, but I know where it went, and by saint lucifer it went. I hadn't eaten or drank anything in four days, so Wednesday morning I went to the emergency room 'cause I was worried about dehydration. So, Anita being the sweetheart she is, woke up and without question rushed me to the hospital. I was getting really worried about my throat 'cause over four days I had thrown up at least 20 times, then another six at the hospital. Charles Bukowski would probably be the only person whom could understand the beauty of my last vomit. I've never felt so empty and happy. It's like the virus was looting an empty store. It just turned and left from whence it came. So they hooked me up with some sweet-ass fluids. Anita searched the hospital for hospital pants, to which sadly, she did not receive. I CAN'T FUMBLE WITH THESE ZIPPERS NO LONGER!!! GET ME A DRAWSTRING!!!
Well now I'm semi-better and ingesting good ole JD whenever I get the chance. It sat well on Saturday night, so I think we're friends again. I had a really good time at Brixton's, too. I still can't believe he played "It's the sun" by Polyphonic Spree. Classic. I didn't get to hear "Anyway that you want me" by the Troggs, though. Shame.
Ask me about my sexy parties.
I'm a show-er not a grow-er, right baby?
Christopher Paul George (where's John 'n Ringo?) Raymond
Last week I spent in purge-atory. Yes, I did mean to say that. My body at one point figured that it could do without substance and purged everything from my system. I don't know where this virus came from, but I'm sure that there was fire and brimstone. That's right. Mexico. Really I don't know where I got it, but I know where it went, and by saint lucifer it went. I hadn't eaten or drank anything in four days, so Wednesday morning I went to the emergency room 'cause I was worried about dehydration. So, Anita being the sweetheart she is, woke up and without question rushed me to the hospital. I was getting really worried about my throat 'cause over four days I had thrown up at least 20 times, then another six at the hospital. Charles Bukowski would probably be the only person whom could understand the beauty of my last vomit. I've never felt so empty and happy. It's like the virus was looting an empty store. It just turned and left from whence it came. So they hooked me up with some sweet-ass fluids. Anita searched the hospital for hospital pants, to which sadly, she did not receive. I CAN'T FUMBLE WITH THESE ZIPPERS NO LONGER!!! GET ME A DRAWSTRING!!!
Well now I'm semi-better and ingesting good ole JD whenever I get the chance. It sat well on Saturday night, so I think we're friends again. I had a really good time at Brixton's, too. I still can't believe he played "It's the sun" by Polyphonic Spree. Classic. I didn't get to hear "Anyway that you want me" by the Troggs, though. Shame.
Ask me about my sexy parties.
I'm a show-er not a grow-er, right baby?
Christopher Paul George (where's John 'n Ringo?) Raymond