I had lunch with my friend Jill. Bourke Street. Salmon Bagels.
I've got twelve short stories I'm working on. A gay, semi-erotic, anthology. Been back working on them all week. I got a new printer, so now I can print out what I've written and write some more.
The languid afternoon stretched into night. No evening breeze to blow through the house, cooling the air. The heat stayed, as if the air was sticky with honey.
We've had pot all week, so we've been sedating ourselves really well. A couch each, even if David doesn't partake.
Heat? What heat?
Shane and I watched Dexter, to the end of season 3. I love the Blood Orange image in the opening sequence, it's hot.
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