Almost-Catastrophe.
Praise the Lord.
Apologies ahead. Week-long absence of line connection has brought.. awkwardly placed merriness amidst being skinned cash-wise. Frugal attempts fell short. Pancakes at Dome, Chicken Avocado sandwiches at Delicious-- trans-fat goods at night.. but it ain't news. What I endured: an almost self man-slaughter, restocking Knicker Bucket and an unhealthy amount of ironing. Premeditated plans to hang self was stopped by.. a Hershey's kiss. Heaven-sent beyond extremity. Truly. Knicker allowance: seamless underpants. Four words for lifetime loyalty to a lingerie house. Yes. My apathy have shortened it's life span. The Thursday morning loss. Healing. Still. Previous Friday witnessed us, ditching the alleged "Super Sweet Sixteen" and graced Skate Park instead. Scantily clad. Unholy. At such a place under moonlight. Righteous. The next morning-- my conscience and I had plans. An all day rendezvous with our homo-erotic films, trans-fat next to caffeine, siblings confused as primates enveloped by a nightly miss of jersey clad lads on the greens. Sad, isn't it. I'm on the August-countdown. Remains of my weekend was utmost stellar. Dirtied swanky marble floors, unconscious galloping of Olios: ever present. Night falls, us foursome resided at Annexe for Acoustic Night. An unappreciated sibling went on with Lovesick Avenue as an extra guitarist. Acid jazz multitones. Beat enthusiasts run in the genes, perhaps? More fact than fiction it is.
[MUSIC] Phoenix - One Time Too Many
