>I’m rick james, bitch.

>Ooh la la.

What the hell am I going to write about here? Bollocks.

I suppose I could just do the usual, “so, today I…”

I went to work. I came home. I went to the gym. Came home again. Watched “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” and ate a nectarine. And some sushi. Bryan came home, hugs and kisses. Popped chicken in oven for Bry. Fed and walked the dogs. Took a bath. Now here I sit.


Damn, I suck. This is a “why bother” entry.

Oh! Wine! I cracked open my Syrah! Que Syrah Syrah…

You know what? Screw y’all. I ain’t writing anything today. Whaddya think o’ that?

voulez-voulez-vous why bother.

2 thoughts on “>I’m rick james, bitch.

  1. AJ Gentile

    >I had practically the same day.My nectarine was a peach.My dog was a cat.My Syrah a Shiraz.You are my blog alter-ego.So, do me a favor and have sex tonight. Because, I’m aching.Oh, wait. Would that mean that if you *do*, I don’t?Ack!Alternate realities are so confusing!


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