28 March 2011

Cellar Door

This is my last post for awhile until we settle down in new living arrangements. I'll miss you my little scruffians. Don't sob, don't stuff your face with fried Nutter Butter and pork sausage sandwiches to take the ache away, just remember me by seeing my face in the waning moon, when a baby screams because his finger gets smashed in a car door, when the nite is frosty and a chill goes up your spine for just a second.

If memory can be tinned, I hope it never has a sell-bye date...


  1. hey. I am just checking on you... seeing if you are surviving. I'm not. :(

  2. Hey sweetstuff,

    This eviction thing is the pits, do you know how hard it is to get another place with an eviction on your record? Russ and I didn't have anything saved and we shoved everything (Made In Japan dim sum plates, salt and pepper shakers shaped like men's torso's we got at Urban Outfitters, our country looking dining room table my sister so shellacked the Hell out of that it glimmers in the dark and our massive bed that broke my back in 3 places just moving it) into storage. Sorry to hear about your sorrows, what's happening?


I eat your comments with jam and butter.