Heaven is whenever
We can get together,
Lock your bedroom door
And listen to your records.
This is, by some distance, my favourite song at the moment. It has everything to make my audio senses tingle. So, so, so, so good.
I’m pretty chuffed with my last two tattoos. I’m already desperate to get another; still plenty of naked skin on my arms to work with.
Ignore the girl-like nature of my bicep, and the fact that the blood is sort of distorting the green in the stem here. It will look better in a couple of weeks once healed (the green, not the bicep…)
You’re so vain, you probably think this text post is about you
There are nights when I think Sal Paradise was right
Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together
I’m kind of glad that the sun has disappeared and it’s more overcast out there today. I’m not particularly fond of this time of year (the first hopeful rays of sunshine creaking through the clouds) when you see this vast conglomerate of pasty white legs stuffed into moth ravaged shorts converge onto the streets and the supermarkets.
And don’t get me started on flip-flops. The male toes are the most anatomically grotesque sight out there.
Can’t find another one like you
And so we go