Sunday, February 16, 2014

Sunday Perfect

The boxes are packed and stored.  The spy papers burned with all incriminating evidence of so so so many transatlantic exploits fluttering into the breeze like irradiated snow flakes. 

Now to groove... do it right, feel it deep.  Burn and melt to the dream of possibility.

*This might just be my new favorite album du jour.  Damn... this slows your gut to the consistency of hot caramels.

Saturday, February 8, 2014


Oh you know... just hanging on a futon mattress in a house that isn't mine with my clothes in bags all around me listening to cute love songs about monsterly extra-terrestrial love.  Who knew a sober solo Friday night could feel so good?

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