i am not a shark.
mixing bowl salad, free live music (i link to myspace this one time because look at their influences) with lobster percussion and typewriter and accordion, an audience complete with blue lipstick way-too-touched girl and giant aperture prime lens photographer man, chalking on bathroom walls, 10pm drive to the beach, sitting in plants over the water without shivering, lending the cat barf scarf, "say preston, what's that spot on your knee?" "it's boogers!", the prospect of not having to erect a phony fir tree, a great deal of toast.
it's the way a friday night should happen.
it's the way a friday night should happen.