Keep bitching about the snow and the bad drivers. It's music to my eyes.

I'm in a hammock, sipping a margarita out of a coconut, watching the crystal blue ocean, strumming on a ukulele. Let's not forget to mention I'm wearing a bright red speedo to show off the goods.

Or, I will be in three days.

[Langston Parker only knows himself as Langston Parker. He ain't got no other name than that. When he wakes up and finds himself in the wrong house, he figures he must have had too much to drink the night before. He doesn't pay any mind to the murmur of voices as searches for a way out ( Read more... )

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