as told to (your name here)

Deprived of oxygen

Grrr, I still can't write a whole entry on any single thing. I can barely compose a complete sentence. My brain is as scrambled as the eggs Giada put in the frittata. Hang on people...

I'm on about my fifth Altoid and I still can't get rid of the taste of foot. Good thing I recently bought new shoes, so at least it's fresh leather. Too late in the day to Make Somebody Happy anyway, so I'll try again tomorrow night.

I love blackberries.

She gives me a lot without taking. I should be ok with that arrangement- she is- but I'm not. It seems like she's got a negative answer for every possible question. Does she have it all written down in advance? Because it's like she doesn't even have to think before answering. [Ed. Note: Last line redacted.]

Thanks for the love. So, how much do I owe you?

Nevertheless, I thought about you off and on all day- how, where, what to make you happy if you'd let me. I know, I'm supposed to play it cool and not call you for a couple of days. I guess I'm not cool and then you told me what I already knew.

I finally saw last week's ER (preempted due to the storm). Sam and Luka are sitting on the bench outside the prison and she says, "He couldn't care less about us but that little boy loves him anyway. What the hell is right about that?" but he doesn't respond. A long moment passes. She doesn't get it, you can see it. I don't know how he had the restraint not to punch her in the head for being so thick.

posted by tinyhands @ 11:59 PM