Chatterbox

I drove up to Bolago in the afternoon, after smoking pot and writing for most of the day. Although, I did drive over to Lottie's and cut her lawn. I left late and forgot she was going out in the afternoon, so I cut the grass, ate her cake and got the hell out before she got home.

Then I farted around in the arvo before leaving for the country.

I must remember to drive to the country and then smoke pot, not the other way around. Although, smoking pot and driving is easy, not like alcohol. If you relax and trust you senses on pot you'll be fine, where if you relax and trust your senses on alcohol you'll drive off the road .

they've got a couple staying with their mother, a self confessed chatterbox. The woman never stops talking. Last night, she'd just walk up to me talking, prattle away and then wander off still talking. When I came out for breakfast she was propped up chatting with a cup of coffee in her hand. I just wanted to put a pillow over her face and hold it there until her little legs stopped kicking. She's old, it wouldn't have taken much.

So here I am, I wouldn't normally be writing this up here, but I had to escape.