cheesy
I just realised that I never wished anyone happy birthday apart from my bandmates. I have no choice but wishing them a happy birthday since they'd beat me up otherwise. But I'm not much of a spender and I've got a short memory so to everyone who had their birthdays in 2003, happy birthday or something, enjoy your cake and don't forget to have loads of sex.
I'm surrounded with love. My husband, my girlfriend, my twin and my almost-son - they're all just so great I'd love to live in some kind of hippie house : all together, all beaming with love, all wearing flower-printed shirts and flip flaps. We would sing songs accompanied by acoustic guitars and Fab would let his hair grow to his shoulders. We'd eat tofu and participate in some peace march.
The other day I laid in bed with the baby sleeping on my chest. With his head on my neck he would just be the size of ... of ... a tshirt sleeve. I closed my eyes cause I was tired and the baby would breathe the way I breathed, his little fist would move when my chest did. I guess he felt warm there but what I hoped is that he felt safe. I don't want to steal his true father's place, but I feel great with him near me. It doesn't seem as hard as I thought it'd be. He's a nice boy. He's not crying much and he starts being aware of the difference between good music and bad music. And he loves Christina Aguilera's pictures. I told you he's a good boy. I secretely hope I'm responsible of that.
I'm surrounded with love. My husband, my girlfriend, my twin and my almost-son - they're all just so great I'd love to live in some kind of hippie house : all together, all beaming with love, all wearing flower-printed shirts and flip flaps. We would sing songs accompanied by acoustic guitars and Fab would let his hair grow to his shoulders. We'd eat tofu and participate in some peace march.
The other day I laid in bed with the baby sleeping on my chest. With his head on my neck he would just be the size of ... of ... a tshirt sleeve. I closed my eyes cause I was tired and the baby would breathe the way I breathed, his little fist would move when my chest did. I guess he felt warm there but what I hoped is that he felt safe. I don't want to steal his true father's place, but I feel great with him near me. It doesn't seem as hard as I thought it'd be. He's a nice boy. He's not crying much and he starts being aware of the difference between good music and bad music. And he loves Christina Aguilera's pictures. I told you he's a good boy. I secretely hope I'm responsible of that.