woke up at ten thirty with a cheerleader with laryngitis.

last night it was cute cuz i kept on trying to make her talk.

oh shit, where are the bandaids!

shed point and croak out something and we’d laugh.

this girl loves wilco so we were listening to that all night.

she hadn’t seen the hours so i started it over and watched it again, all the way through this time.

turned out i had watched all but 15 minutes of it before i stopped it the other night.

we drank wine and when wilco was over she pulled out an anthology of tennyson and pointed, so i read outloud to her.

he knew what he was doing, that guy

that’s all i gotta say.

the kids write in all the time with questions of all sorts

find a good kisser, kids.

in baseball they say you have to build from the middle: catcher, shortstop, second baseman, center fielder.

they also talk about the fundamentals.

quality kissing can make up for an awful lot

if given the choice between going out with a girl who has no money but a magical kiss, and a filthy rich girl who couldn’t kiss, i would say that the choice is easy.

the cheerleader whispered that she would spend the night with the rich girl and run home in the morning and kiss the poor girl.

and then we played grand theft auto two

she tried to distract me with an impromptu fashion show, a tactic that wouldn’t have been allowed under international play because on many levels it really is cheating. especially since it works every damn time.

alabama whoorley + megastir

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