This post represents my personal opinion; sometimes it makes sense, often not. I reserve the right to edit/delete offensive comments, but I wouldn't mind a couple of politically incorrect statements here and there.
The sustain of a perfectly bent note. Getting into the reggae groove despite my trash-core leanings. Mixing Burnt Umber juuuust right. Poodle nibbling on my fingers. The first puff from my menthols in the morning. The letters mom and dad send me from time to time. Ice cold Red Horse. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels. Like Barbara Streisand, these are some of my favorite things.
And in this day, in this age, the post-Jean era, where I get to do anything I want with juuust enough money to do it with, I find myself so incredibly empty. I amuse myself with incredibly inane jokes, glorify violence, wax sentimental over my grandmother’s passing and my loss… but I’ve never really plugged that gaping hole in my existence that used to be her.
Happy Easter everyone.
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The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. ~ Edmund Burke
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