Every time I try for some peace and quiet, someone has to throw shit in the fan. Fuck you, Slash, you miserable son of a bitch.

Not dead yet.

Oops, I hit six weeks ( Read more... )

I've been too distracted to even remember that I have one of these things ( Read more... )

This morning, he woke me up to watch the sunrise with him. We sat on the balcony, curled on a couch, sharing a cigarette and kisses and as much preening that his collarbone would allow his arm, eventually just sighing and cuddling closer and watching until the sky had faded completely from dark purple to the blue sky ( Read more... )

Something told me I'd end up with one of these journals, typing away to the world with a cat sleeping on my lap and Forensic Files droning on the TV in the next room. Call it a gut feeling. It's been so long since I've even attempted to socialize with the Hollywood crowd, or anybody remotely like that ( Read more... )