I'm sweaty as hell 'cause I'm back on the Insanity. Shaun T is my master and Marlene is my muse.
There is another Open Mic Night this Saturday at Café Maybe. Would you like to come? I will be playing some songs and reading a short story. Hopefully other people bring something to show, because I'm weary (but willing) to pull the trigger on my Eating Contest for One That Nobody Wants to See idea. Unless Aunup's game. Then he'll eat with me. I just fear it will be beneath him. But me? Nothing's beneath me. Nothing.
Are you aware by chance of how unbelievably beautiful Goldie Hawn was as a young woman? She was funny, charming, gorgeous and hip. And psychedelic. I like all those things. Dare I say that all falls into my "type." I don't think I really have a "type," but if I did in early '72, Goldie would be the epitome of it. Of course, I'd be negative 9 years old, so she probably wouldn't go for me. But that's before she met Kurt Russell, so who knows?
The weather outside is beautiful. It's bloomin' and warm and people are wearin' shorts and t-shirts and skippin' and ploppin' and and and yup yup. I love it. Reminds me of a place I used to live. Somewhere warm...somewhere...East. West? Good God, I'm losing my bearings! Ahh!
A. Dola Baroni is talented, beautiful and dope.
My water heater's running, so I'd better go catch it. Hardy har har.
ILLS
-LS^2
Maybe this is my type.
Certainly my nemesis.
Potentially my Soulmate...
Free toast, nucka.
"...and when they fell, he simply
piled them up again." (Lavusacas, 4:08)
Dr. J's popularity never diminished, it
just moved SouthEast Asia.
These lovely women sold me a beer and
gave me a chocolate. Then we talked at
each other. They did not, however,
let me play their guitar.
See?
(click my picture and watch me dance)
I dare you to cuter.
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