Last night Ash and I bar-hopped around the hood and ended up at Candy Bar playing a PC version of Fuck, Marry, Kill called "Date, Marry, Dump." Candy Bar is one of those SF bars that have board games for you to take down off the shelves and play with your drinking buddies.
I found out that Ash would not want to marry Mr. Rogers. (I think she picked Mr. T instead...)
And she found out that I would definitely date Carrie Fisher and marry Andie MacDowell. Schwing!
There are days when I'm looking at my life through thick glass. I think you know the feeling. There are days when you care, and days when you... don't. Can't?
Kerstin and I camp in a pony pasture and chase the solar eclipse across Texas.
We popped out into the sun-bleached streets, and there beside us were Corrin and Dafne, rising up the BART escalator. “Hey! You dressed up!” Corrin lit up and Dafne ducked behind him. With eight minutes to curtain, we walked briskly in the summer breeze. Kerstin nearly started skipping, a will-o’
I guess it was my fault. Kerstin would like the karaoke condoms to be accessible, right as you’re running out the door. In case of a karaoke emergency. I moved them, in a fit of spring cleaning, to the champagne bucket under the table with the car keys and