I like cool summer days and warm winter nights. We wont be appropriately dressed.
On a train across Germany one mild autumn's day, a cellist with the Berlin Philharmonic attempted to engage me in some intellectual discourse about the passage of time. The only noteworthy pitch he made was love is not something you can recapture because the melange of emotions at that moment has passed. I didnt expect him to know better. He has only loved one.
Love does manifest itself in different forms through different people at different times. I wasnt about to argue, we still had 3 hours to go.
I had intended to write about my love for my country and the sacrifices that I would make but thankfully this post distracted me. For fear of feminist militants attacking me, I refrained from making any comments and decided that its better to shit in my own blog.
Acquiring knowledge and having a social conscience are all fine and dandy but it wont get you laid. You need good grooming even if you look like a chihuahua.
This sucks. I dont know what I'm saying or doing anymore. I cant be sitting here without my clothes with a shot of whisky thinking it would make me blog. Time I stop blogging.
" (creating drama by quitting blogging briefly)