I Can’t Be Left To My Imagination

Pete’s house is wonderful, and I am happy to wake up here in the morning – provided I fall asleep at night. In places to which I am unaccustomed, I lie awake and think terrible thoughts: I’m so tired breathing hurts, and What the fuck is wrong with those mouthbreathers at CNN? So: once again, I’m a bleary wreck.

We’re off to Home Depot to rent a spray-painting machine and five gallons of white paint. What could possible go wrong?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s