Oh Charlie. If only we were happy together in some low budget love nest watching "Nemo" blast the city with gleeful waves of snow. Oh to ride out "Nemo",...jezz where do they get these names, to ride out the latest Storm of the Century in the arms of my fantasy object of comradely bliss!
There we'd be watch the Blizzard through the crystal clear picture window of our happy shelter. I'd be reciting passages of "Leaves of Grass to the lovely youth. He'd be ignoring me, and texting his fashionable friends back in Paris.
"POP!"
So much for that fantasy. These little bubbles burst at the first opportunity. Still it's the thought that counts. Actually I'll be spending the Blizzard at work at the Radio Station. What fun. Never mind Idle hands are the Devil's industrial fuck palaces, and we can't have that can we.
Stay tuned.
No comments:
Post a Comment