cklarock

I have to tell you that other than the party on Friday, the seminar was pretty dissapointing. It was cool to hang around so many artists, do a little life drawing and watch some talented pros work, but there was exactly zero instruction. I learned a couple of nifty tricks and shortcuts for illustrating in Photoshop, but at $150.00 a day? On a scale of one to ten, I give it a two or three.

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My ex called me at 3:30 am on Thursday evening, ostensibly to wish me a belated happy new year (?) and she then read me some erotic poetry she'd been writing about me.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, you are go mission, over. What the fucking fuck? This is how she acted when we first hooked up; calling late at night, reading poetry and singing to me. I surmise that the bloom has faded off the rose of the New Guyit's been about seven months, so I guess that makes sense.

I wonder if he knows she's writing poems about fucking me?

I wonder if she was writing poems about fucking her baby daddy when we were together?