small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: <strong>reaching out</strong>

Saturday, August 7

reaching out

Dammit, this is to the lovely woman with dreads I met tonight at the Hurricane that shared tequila shots with me and gave me her phone number in purple ink. The ink smeared and I can’t read your number. So catch me at my mail address “, cause I’d love to hear from you again.
"and the monkey flipped the switch"


Blogger TheBlackNewYorker said...

That was my evil twin, lol.

2:49 PM  
Blogger Death said...

woooohoooo! She called me! Just goes to show, never never never, take an important number down on the back of a glossy card in purple ink.

7:08 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

The one wearing a green shirt? -- Charley.

10:21 PM  

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