SSS-SMOKIN'

So super-fucking-cool, that's you! No, really... with your one-of-a-kind, Japanese street couture outfits; the hair styles no one else could get away with (or ever try), using the n-word like you were born one; calling both coasts (and several states) your home; the parade of disposable, but achingly glamorous guys you ‘dorked’-right down to the southern drawl that thickens with liquor. (And just how does that little body manage to hold it’s Penis Colossus and pitchers of Mai Tai so well?)

In all honesty, my life lacks a certain spark now. Can’t say, for sure, if you brought that electricity to my life, or if you just coaxed that side of me out from the dark, deserted corners of normalcy. But I do know I wasn’t the only one dancing in that spotlight, drinking in the summer sun and setting the dance floor on fire.

I have a couple of rolls of film, from that party we threw (with Sam) that I don’t show to anyone-mostly because it takes too long to explain, and by the time the whole ‘New Year’s Eve’ in the middle of July thing makes sense to them, I’m questioning my sanity. Was I crazy back then? Or am I crazy now, for letting the fun slip out of my life?

I don’t need you around to have a good time. I’m plenty good at being a wild-child, all by myself. But it always helps, when you’re making mischief (or just takin’ care of business), to have somebody by your side, screaming in your ear. . .

YOU BETTAH WORK!