Yeah, the top on/bottom off is something else. It kinda says "You don't have to ask me any questions." In my opinion, it works best when she's wearing an old favorite t-shirt mid-morning on a lazy Sunday.
Remind me, by the way, to bring my boots and cane the next time I'm walking down Jermyn Street.
So, if I'm in Paris this summer, I'll have to stop by Harry's for a sidecar. cognac and cointreau, right? Did I ever tell you about the time when I strolled into the Buddha Bar drunk as hell with two older women looking like a scrub? No one said a word at the door...not that I stopped to listen.
The JT's just an old nickname I picked up from some of my former students. For some reason, they thought it would be funny to compare me to Timberlake. Oh, the ignominy.
I think I've said too much already. A girl can't lay down all her cards at once. Good thing my deck goes higher than 52. I wish I were a guy so I could pee anywhere I wanted while standing up. That's real power. I'd like to meet the following: My great-great grandparents, the N. Oklahoma ones, not the Swiss gentry. My woebegone friendship with Adam G. The man who's going to be with me till we're retired to the porch swing sucking on glycerine tablets, and who still reads to me at night, while I rub his feet. My ambitions with commitment and discipline. The characters from old David Lee Roth videos. Hot carb on carb action. That fucker who keeps trying to take the bbq, in a dark alley, satan's minions, lilliputians, nigglers, pifflers, piddlers, snake-oil peddlers, cripples, do-gooders, truth-seekers, sweethearts, wandering minstrels, interlopers, robber barons, saints, sinners, people who snort and guffaw, holler and whoop, tender tender people with good hearts, and all my fat little babies. I like BUTTER! And Vitamin Z!
1 comment:
Yeah, the top on/bottom off is something else. It kinda says "You don't have to ask me any questions." In my opinion, it works best when she's wearing an old favorite t-shirt mid-morning on a lazy Sunday.
Remind me, by the way, to bring my boots and cane the next time I'm walking down Jermyn Street.
So, if I'm in Paris this summer, I'll have to stop by Harry's for a sidecar. cognac and cointreau, right? Did I ever tell you about the time when I strolled into the Buddha Bar drunk as hell with two older women looking like a scrub? No one said a word at the door...not that I stopped to listen.
The JT's just an old nickname I picked up from some of my former students. For some reason, they thought it would be funny to compare me to Timberlake. Oh, the ignominy.
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