(no subject)
Jessica Yayo and Katie took a westbound train to our doorsteps, and with their help, Desiree and I had wholesome and politically correct birthdays.
Chicka-bow. Chicka-bow. I need it now.
My best birthday gift.
We introduced the girls to our dear friend, The Big 10, and they got along very well.
Then our raindance rap came into effect, bringing white clouds and sketch winds; blowing us straight into a black and blue hell.
Hello, beautiful!
YESSSSSS
This is how much we liked it.
Next came The Great Escape, aka fleeing Cousin TouTou in heels on Saint Catherine's at 7 in the morning.
Mandatory racial bashing!
Then, Desiree's day of birth; aka shoe-shopping, SATC and cuddles of the best kind.
Dear Saint Jude, Patron of Lost Causes;
I beseech you for your guidance.
Tell me, please, if I am chasing the wrong tail, for I know not what I do.
Honestly, I don't have a clue.
MAKE ME CLEAN
O BLESSED HEAVENLY BODY
TAKE ME NOW
Or I will plunge this sacred emblem of redemption deep into my fucking ribcage.
In the name of the father and of the son and of the holy ghost.
Forever and ever,
Amy.
"You smell like 40s."
Desi says: This picture sums up my life.
My favorite lovely lady lumps.
Cider is the best kind.
Then I fell in love again.
Destroyed by The Big 10 (X 2 = The Big 20) means:
I.Unable to enjoy the circus and newspaper maze
II.The loss of the only jacket I have ever loved
III.Being carried home by Adrian and Pedro.
Other things have made my head heavy; even too heavy for these broad shoulders to hold. But other things can be exterminated by warmth and simplicity.
THE SUN
THE SPRING
THE RAYS
THE COMING OF THE LONG DAYS
And not thinking about it; that works, too.