| Arid |
[03 Nov 2003|08:06pm] |
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mood |
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 melancholy |
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It's been raining far too much lately. I'm tired of soaked-pants-up-to-the-knees and that wet mammal smell on the bus... the exhaled breath of strangers misting up the windows.
The Cherub discussing childhood candy in orgasmic thralls. I'm beginning to think I am a sucker. How poor can one man get before I become high maintenance? Nah, I couldn't do that. I dislike expensive rituals; although it would be nice to eat somewhere else: other than his parents' place. I feel like turning up my nose and demanding mountains of caviar. But where would he pull it from? I'm becoming poor myself.
Mummy Skin asking if I could cut her nails for her. How truly ludicrous this is. Crusty, thick toenails like rhinoceros horn. Hooves really. Most older people have to go and get them done professionally. What a humble life I lead. Corns and bunions... a veritable vegetable patch on the treads.
Guh. This entry is ruined.
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