Baby, your scent is intoxicating.

I had not seen you since you ran out on me that day, December 9th.

I had to move on. I had to. I found another and I tried to hold her in my arms like I did you. Baby, I tried.

Her touch was different, cold. I always had to press the right button with her, you know? It wasn't right, baby girl, and I perspired every day just worrying about it.

Damn.

Then came Christmas, and there you were, like a ray of sunlight cutting through my dark and stormy cloud. I knew I had to have you and to hold you in my arms again.

Girl, I promise we will freak in the bathroom before I leave for work every day. Every single day.

I've missed you, Old Spice "Aqua Reef" Deoderant/Anti-Perspirant.

xoxo,
Nicky

The Bag King

Man is not the sum of what he has but the totality of
what he does not yet have, of what he might have.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Plastic bags are a fixture of daily life and rarely is a purchase complete where you would not receive one, such as a drink from the convenience store, screwdriver from home center, baby from black market etc etc.

Working my way up the bag hierarchy, I convinced myself that I could go no further. That I had reached the top. That I'd have to buy products so big they require special delivery, such as women*.

I was to learn that day last week what my sum was not; what my totality might be.

Check out that great big fucking bag, dude!!! Just iMAGine my excitement when the cashier scooped everything together and proceeded to place them in a bag that was no smaller than Shaquille O'Neal. "Its so big I could sit in it," I thought, giggling like Sloth, saliva bungee jumping off my face.

And once home, I promptly sat in the bag. You can do many things inside this bag: read a magazine, create a cocoon of immediate warmth, cry yourself to sleep. With carefully cut holes in the bottom, it could easily accommodate two during swim season at Suma Beach, although I am thinking of stuffing it and mounting it on the wall.

*i can't make this joke funny, i've tried