Anos Kata...
My knowledge of dead languages fails... but y' all know who you are and the shout that comes at the end, like at the Ani concert at Penn, you rock baby!
A snotty girl bike-fixing workshop was *exactly* what I had in mind. See. I knew the answer would mystically arrive. Points to be considered...
I have no menu.
I have no hiking boots.
First we need a menu, then we need to go shopping for food and hiking boots.
Then we need to go climb on the top of Thomas Great with a bottle of Asti Spumante for each hand, (or perhaps the top of Phelps? I haven't scaled any buildings here yet) and howl at the moon, and chuck the empty bottles with a dull thud to the grass three hundred feet below. And then guiltfully collect them the next sober moment.
Yay, no tofurkey or faux turkey or whatever they call that shit. (although it you made it, it would definitely _not_ be shit). But I will feel less guilty with you being a non-vegetarian.
What ya doin'? Yeah, I would be peeking into your bedroom just about now, to avoid the work I am so diligently avoiding. Not technically true, I have granted myself 10 minute dispensation. Let's pretend, just for today, that I am there, peeking into your bedroom, in my less than-dressed, perpetual state of being, red silk, and I do just inspire lust, don't I? Somebody better close that door, how will I possibly get my projects finished if I can't watch all 32 episodes of TP in two nights... This is so much fun, and we could even burn some potato latkes to spy on all the unassuming couples as they shuffle from the building...
So many ideas. You must take me to the farm, but no peeing. Not even just a little, it would be unethical. Oh Sabrina and I took the kids to the farmstand the other day and there was a totally evil woman, studiously ignoring us, until she decided to scold our inoffensive children. grrrr.
MMMM. no more strawberries, but I wonder if we could get fresh figs and make higos en almibar, Miramar style... with cream.
What else... I am thinking about how you make all the pain dissappear and how I wish that I had been there for you, better than I was, I mean, before... oh fuck it. can't go back and change shit...
"here comes little naked me padding up to the bath room door. To see little naked you slumped on the bath room floor..." only our slumps are purely metaphorical ones aren't they...
My mood just did a 180 - you kick my ass, darlin' (in the best way possible)
A snotty girl bike-fixing workshop was *exactly* what I had in mind. See. I knew the answer would mystically arrive. Points to be considered...
I have no menu.
I have no hiking boots.
First we need a menu, then we need to go shopping for food and hiking boots.
Then we need to go climb on the top of Thomas Great with a bottle of Asti Spumante for each hand, (or perhaps the top of Phelps? I haven't scaled any buildings here yet) and howl at the moon, and chuck the empty bottles with a dull thud to the grass three hundred feet below. And then guiltfully collect them the next sober moment.
Yay, no tofurkey or faux turkey or whatever they call that shit. (although it you made it, it would definitely _not_ be shit). But I will feel less guilty with you being a non-vegetarian.
What ya doin'? Yeah, I would be peeking into your bedroom just about now, to avoid the work I am so diligently avoiding. Not technically true, I have granted myself 10 minute dispensation. Let's pretend, just for today, that I am there, peeking into your bedroom, in my less than-dressed, perpetual state of being, red silk, and I do just inspire lust, don't I? Somebody better close that door, how will I possibly get my projects finished if I can't watch all 32 episodes of TP in two nights... This is so much fun, and we could even burn some potato latkes to spy on all the unassuming couples as they shuffle from the building...
So many ideas. You must take me to the farm, but no peeing. Not even just a little, it would be unethical. Oh Sabrina and I took the kids to the farmstand the other day and there was a totally evil woman, studiously ignoring us, until she decided to scold our inoffensive children. grrrr.
MMMM. no more strawberries, but I wonder if we could get fresh figs and make higos en almibar, Miramar style... with cream.
What else... I am thinking about how you make all the pain dissappear and how I wish that I had been there for you, better than I was, I mean, before... oh fuck it. can't go back and change shit...
"here comes little naked me padding up to the bath room door. To see little naked you slumped on the bath room floor..." only our slumps are purely metaphorical ones aren't they...
My mood just did a 180 - you kick my ass, darlin' (in the best way possible)
posted by ilana at 11:04 p.m.
0 Comments:
Publicar un comentario
<< Home