Sunday, November 15, 2009
fixed frequencies
the bouncer let me cross the dance floor to tell marty that i'd been kicked out, before kicking me out. to the best of my memory, i had done nothing wrong, like no spills, falls, or flips. but i had arrived hours earlier in a lavish party bus, and had been trying out a few new dance moves, so that pretty much explains it. anyway, while the bouncer was red-carpeting me out of there i said "i feel sorry for your girlfriend."
"i dont have a girlfriend."
"exactly."
not that i tamed any anistons myself, but it felt great to fight the power.
luckily he didnt smack me, and marty grabbed my john prine hoody from coat check.
the duke woke up with a black eye, and i woke up on a been bag in my brothers living room.
neither of us know how/when/why.
another sunday out of sight.
special cooking is required to engage the recovery process.
and nothing caps a hangover like KD with 14 other secret ingredients.
i call it 15.
"we're havin' 15 for dinner tonight, sweetheart."
lucky her.
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