Is that a question? You score the motherlode of all painkillers, and you ask if it helped?
Our mutual back-pain-inflicted friend once said to me, after a similar delivery, "Thanks for the vacation from pain." And I pass that sentiment on to you, for that's exactly what it feels like. A brief, happy respite from the hum-drum daily grind of agony. You know that eventually you have to go back to Real Life, but for a few blissful hours, it's not so much of an issue.
And yes, I know Alan, and am in love with him for his master mixologist prowess and his swarthy good looks and charm. Oddly, I met him at The Saint a few years ago where he cooed and praised my Hooch, and bade me come to Iris some time to try his "modest efforts" at home-infusions.
Of course, once I made that journey, I was humbled and awed, and had a hard time believing he ever complimented my schwag of a home-brewed concoction. That's like Chopin wandering in my house and saying, "Hey, that's a pretty song you're playing
( ... )
I know the surreal sense of relief that washes over you when a reviled, seemingly permanent fixture uproots and vanishes.
Then again, I used to fantasize about setting off explosives inside Club Behind The Eightball on the corner of Amelia and Tchoup. Monday morning, I'd walk outside to a litter of needles, condoms and occasionally bullets wrapped tight in napkins.
Then Katrina arrived a few months later, and I found myself uprooted instead. I bow to Lady Irony.
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You are the funniest, cleverest monkee:)
Did it help?
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The man is like a master perfumer, only with booze. And he's pretty, and not stupid, neither.
Perhaps w/ W?
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Is that a question? You score the motherlode of all painkillers, and you ask if it helped?
Our mutual back-pain-inflicted friend once said to me, after a similar delivery, "Thanks for the vacation from pain." And I pass that sentiment on to you, for that's exactly what it feels like. A brief, happy respite from the hum-drum daily grind of agony. You know that eventually you have to go back to Real Life, but for a few blissful hours, it's not so much of an issue.
And yes, I know Alan, and am in love with him for his master mixologist prowess and his swarthy good looks and charm. Oddly, I met him at The Saint a few years ago where he cooed and praised my Hooch, and bade me come to Iris some time to try his "modest efforts" at home-infusions.
Of course, once I made that journey, I was humbled and awed, and had a hard time believing he ever complimented my schwag of a home-brewed concoction. That's like Chopin wandering in my house and saying, "Hey, that's a pretty song you're playing ( ... )
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The respite from the pain allows you to relax.
The relaxation provides a hiccup for the nerve endings.
The hiccup shares the release to the injury.
Mebbe the whole chain will fix the spasming.
I'm gone to an ATL kink show (post epidural - wheeee!) from Thursday - Sunday / Monday-ish.
When can this inebriated triumvirate happen?
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How about brownies with money baked in them?
What's your sched. like? I'm entirely at your disposal.
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Then again, I used to fantasize about setting off explosives inside Club Behind The Eightball on the corner of Amelia and Tchoup. Monday morning, I'd walk outside to a litter of needles, condoms and occasionally bullets wrapped tight in napkins.
Then Katrina arrived a few months later, and I found myself uprooted instead. I bow to Lady Irony.
Reply
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