thoughts: connected and disconnected

Which came first?
The birds shat on my car because I always try to run them over when driving?
Or I always try to run over the birds while driving because they shat on my car?
Not that I think anything with a brain smaller than a peanut is realistically culpable for its actions.
But I still fucking hate nearly all birds.
And by hate, I mean fear.

South Congress Ave?
It will make you feel like a skank.
If you let it.
And by you, I do mean me.
Today, I put it all together. Two of my 'conquests' work within one block of each other on Congress.
In that same one block radius? The man sitting on top of the mountain that is my 'to fuck' list.
And that wasn't even the icing on today's lustcake...
Coming back from the walk that forced me to solve the mystery of what can only be described as a Bermuda Triangle o'Sleaze ....I see the hottest piece of manflesh I have laid eyes on in the parking garage of my office. I don't know if it was him, or the promise of crawfish...but I started to drool like a dawg.
Or maybe it was when he said he was a sailor.

In more cogent news...I am perhaps over-loving the life alone. So, I don't really have 'furniture' - so the fuck what? I do have bamboozy cushions and a lil table to match. And a bed. And a desk! Who needs anything else? Chairs, couches? What are these things? And where are the bougies who lounge upon them?!

Drinking a few beers toward the last hours of the day? I feel a spring in my step that can only be spurred by beery delusion.

And I have decided this weekend shall be even more glorious than the last.