The balance in my checking account is declining at a breakneck pace. It's fucking terrifying. All the more reason why I ought to sequester myself in the fucking library and do nothing but work all day. And reward myself with the occasional hamburger cocktail eyecandy extravaganza. And slumber parties with the hottest girl I know.
I have a new man in my life. He is blue and his name is Miron and he lives in a bowl on my kitchen table. He's a feisty little glutton and I adore him. He's not so much into being photographed though.
I think ima take a break from The Dialogic Imagination for a bit. I just can't seem to give a shit about chronotopes right now. Back to fiction for a bit. Ooof. Must...keep...working...must...not...drink...whiskey...
I've never met a temptation I could resist.
I have a new man in my life. He is blue and his name is Miron and he lives in a bowl on my kitchen table. He's a feisty little glutton and I adore him. He's not so much into being photographed though.
I think ima take a break from The Dialogic Imagination for a bit. I just can't seem to give a shit about chronotopes right now. Back to fiction for a bit. Ooof. Must...keep...working...must...not...drink...whiskey...
I've never met a temptation I could resist.
Miron Squiddy? Miron McSquiddy? Miron "Squiddy" McFaj?
And I don't know why she chose stripping specifically. I think she felt like she needed to express herself sexually and that was a good way to do it. I'm not gonna complain, you know?
I am jealous of your slumber parties.