I sincerely doubt that Kenneth Wolstenhome, when uttering those ultimately immortal worlds, ever considered how they may be used to evaluate a failed relationship that not only lasted far longer than it had a duty to, but also attained the heightened status (in occasional parts) of also achieving far kinkier status than it's decidedly staid and conservative nature ever ever ever had the rights to obtain.
Now there is billing...
Despite the debonair approach, (Family Portrait is finishing and so is a half of Scotch) I'm pretty fucked-up really.
How can you know something is so wrong for so long; so totally poisonous to your mental health, but then feel lost without? So bereft at the idea of being denied?
How can one plan, in detail. the murder and decapitation of someone and on a change of tide be so utterly contrary and so pained to the soul at the very idea of losing her?
Perhaps Money never Mattered?
Perhaps I'm just bored as fuck with waiting - despite consuming half a bottle of Scotch (generic - you do not, to the best of my knowledge, get single malts (AAAAAArrrrrggggghhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!) in quantities other than bottle or dram. For myself, following my Father's predilection has seen me quite appreciate the Scottish spirit.
Sunday Express, Srif,
b
(this was a post that never quite reached the publish key - it seems a tad bizarre updating the situation whilst simultaneously depriving you of my opening gambit...)
NoozeHound 29 May 2010
Sorry if formatting is out of synch.
0 comments:
Post a Comment
We can't both be right, it's probably me.
What say you esteemed visitor?