My reasons for posting publicly is not just to satisfy some form of mental masturbation. But in a way to hold myself accountable is some way. So that when I’m 40 and I’m sitting at home in my Italian villa spoon feeding my 80 something year old husband mooshed peas. Someone out there can call me out and ask what the fuck happed to that octopus
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yeay for october!
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back to the dream. it was chalk full of glitter and passion. the highlight of this dream was your make-out soundtrack: la bouche's "rhythm is a dancer." i mean, if you're gonna get waste-face with strangers, watch mtv, and make out with a gay boy is there a song that could possibly be more apropos?
point is, i had this dream. you were on my subconscious mind. thought i would say howdy.
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funny thing ism rhythm is a dance might just be one of my favorite songs, and i have made out with a gay boy before.
howdy. how goes you?
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