Yawn. My mouth tastes like milk-- the aftermath of clove cigarettes, I am sure. Rose of the County Star's hammered dulicemer waltz humms all over my computer speakers. Coyote is twinkling on the edge of my vision.

I suppose this is what happens. Reading American Gods again.

Little asian girls seem to be the fare lately-- mind you, I only danced with one, this time-- and she was a little asian girl from Australia. Wonderfully charming, and a good beginning dancer.

And, and, and... I have sandalwood soap. You can get it here for $2 from a little curio shop called Vaugely Reminiscent. I was also going to buy a little sandstone rabbit yesterday-- 70% off, as it had only one ear-- but the nice girl with the russet, womangirl dreadlocks gave it to me gratis for the natalday. Honor, honor.

Back to coyote's loll-tounge, telling me about the plains.

<<agé chose>>

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