Friday night at Skippy's

I have just the best time at Skippy's. From junking to gossiping to serious convos to watching Etv and chatting with her mom. It's just one of the best places to be.

And the best thing about the whole thing is that we can totally, completely & utterly be our often ridculously crappy selves around each other.


I love you, skips. Although I almost never say it, you know I do.

I wish there was a way to get you.

Something I could say,

something I could do.


I really believed we had it made.

I thought I had a hold on you -

that we'd always be,

just like you said.


You're in my thoughts everyday,

does it mean anything to you?

Yes or no,

I thought I'd let you know anyway.

mix made in hell

Lime Margarita: 1

Whisky Sour: 1

Shot of Tequlia: 1

Bloody Mary: 1

Kamekaze: 1

Slippery Nipple: 1

B-52: 2

Sambuca: 2

Bombay Sapphire, Galliano (and hell knows what) with Coke: 3 sips



Conclusion:

A cessation of the big 'A' for the rest of my life (OK, maybe just a really, really long time).

sometimes it's better not to...

There's a pretty young thing in front of you

and she's real pretty and she's real into you

and then she's sleepin' inside of you

and the talkin' leads to touchin'

and the touchin' leads to sex

and then there is no mystery left