On the Half New Year, I stepped into a gingerly walk around the kitchen, cooking up my regular routine recipe for pre-work slavedom. Breakfast complete, lunch in preparation, I was faced with the first antagonist of the second half. It entailed preceding KARMATH 2009 entried events dealing with those notorious glittered booths, Bon Iver session pheromonic angles, and a lass I'm completely smitten with.
I've stepped into the volatile confines of a broken engagement.
All of the moves taken by each party have been legal.
Well, then why do I feel like Tim Robbins in "High Fidelity"? I feel so slimy, thanks to the words of an illegal bystander: "How do you think he'd feel, Peter? How do you think he'd feel?"
I would have opted for Scenario 3 today, honestly. Drop the air conditioner on my head, I'm inviting you to. Anything to not be Ian.
The Beta Band -- "Dry the Rain"
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