Get up. You have to go.
I don't care. I just don't want you here anymore.
I woke up thinking of those lines and didn't want to forget them for later. I forget more than I ever write.
So many of the times TGB sees me talking to myself I am trying to remember something I meant to write down some time before.
I got a message from my baby brother the other day. He was finally listening to Frank. He was playing the new record and, apparently, bought four Frank records.
We got him tickets to the Phoenix show way back when.
If he'd shown up, we probably wouldn't have met Charlie.
Wow, you're right. Which means the Nord wouldn't be here right now.
Our life would look nothing like it does.
Funny because it's true.
I love my life. Exactly as it is. Minus my own occassional dumbfuckery, of course.