I'm pretty sure I'm high. My apartment has no windows, only a sliding door that leads to the back deck. It's open, the fan is on, the AC...but still, I just painted every inch of this shoebox I call home and I think the fumes are getting to me.
Long ago, I stopped going out out on Friday nights...unless something really something shakes my tail feather, which is rare. Instead, you can find me here, spending evenings with a gentleman by the name of Bear Grylls. Also on this night, Mr. Indiana Jones.
You don't know who Bear Grylls is? Well, let me introduce you...
Wait. I'm not finished, nor is he...
...
After I painted my apartment, I cut my hair. I can't sit still. It's Friday and when I sometimes want to take off and pull together a BOTO, I usually find myself wandering to the only true wander worth mention in this town. The lovely, the daunting, the alluring Mulholland.
That's where you'll find me. Now. As a ghost when I'm gone.