Since last Wednesday, I’ve been home only long enough to sleep and peel the cat off the ceiling. Looking around, the house is starting to show signs of neglect, the fridge has a weird smell and I don’t even know where to find my suitcase…and I need to find my suitcase… ’cause I’m not gonna sit around in my own filth – I’m gonna eschew all my adult responsibilities and, in 36 hours, hop a plane to the coast for two days of wine, nostalgia and jealousy. The filth will still be here when I come back…if I come back. Have a hankerin’ to sneak across the border and start a new life on the lam. There could be grifting involved. And a mysterious stranger. And possibly, a walrus.
Today’s post, brought to you by Burn Out, the new scent with notes of spoiled raspberries, old litter and a subtle undertone of desperation.