SHE'S NOT CRABBY, SHE'S JUST CONSTIPATED

The Rock Skipper smoothed stray hairs behind my left ear and asked me if I'm often cranky in the morning. I guess I was cranky, but then I took this amazing, truly cosmic shit and now I'm feeling much better. Isn’t it lovely when basic drives dictate our moods? It’s like we're all regressing back to infanthood. Presently, I’m sitting in a coffee house waiting for my poet friend to show. We are going to get lunch this afternoon. He has the palest, most delicate ladyfingers I have ever seen on a grown man.