Creep

Ok enough of the mushiness already.

My chest hairs have started to bristle, my muscles ache to be clenched and I fear that I might have to go camp, kill a wolf, eat it's raw heart just to cleanse myself.

It's a little disturbing I know, but don't blame it on me. It's but genealogy.

(At least I hope that's what it is, else chicken won't be our staple diet anymore).

On similar notes, we've been painting this mean ol town red. It has to be done. And no plans. Nothing. All plans have been thrown to the wind where they flutter lifelessly. Just her, me and a town named boo.

oh and last night, in a karaoke bar, I sang my post marriage rendition of Creep. A girl at the bar yelled "If I had underwear to spare, I'd throw it at you".

Making life difficult for single guys, one bar at a time. Ah bliss.

Strawberry Fields Forever

....
To tell you the truth, the honest god forsaken and all the different kinds it comes in, truth - I don't know that much of the written word to describe how much of a blast it was.

But if you were in front of me and saw my hand gestures, the excited tone in my voice, the eyebrows with a mind of their own, the bulging eyes themselves, you'd see my point. Even if I didn't have to pin you to a wall and scream it out, you'd see it.

I lived those two weeks.

I laughed, I danced, I drank, I sat on a horse, I wore heavier clothes than I've ever worn, some jewelry too yes, I hugged a thousand people, I reflected a million flashes of the camera on my skin, I made my jaws ache by smiling so much, I walked in a daze, I saw family and friends I hadn't seen in ages and I cried for it, and I smiled for it

...and she looked so lovely through it all. And I crossed my fingers every time I managed a secret glance at her.

Now we're busy assembling ikea furniture and the camera's are slung on tourist necks clicking past me at the buildings and the concrete.

Shit I miss the attention.