Reckless Drivin' On

A gold lamé stirrup-panted promise of an update. First, could someone please explain the source of Gothise.com traffic our blogs?

Pale Hands I Loved So Well*

Aww, you guys. ::angry Snoopy fist shake:: Thank you for overlooking the excessive prepositional phrases and passive voice.

Living an hour and 48 minutes apart, the courtship between C and me involves a lot of online Scrabble. He signed off, "Back to bed again once the game ends. Yep made it all of like 2 hrs being up before I hit the hay."

I don't know the full extent of his health problems - cardiovascular, metabolic, hypogonadism (no testicles), keto acidosis which makes his morning breath unusually sweet - and spent a fair portion of our days together rubbing his aching joints, like we've skipped past the golden years to depression and decrepitude. He's also several months unemployed in major credit card debt, joking defensively about his impending homelessness. I typed back inquiring if it was mental or physical exhaustion.

"Well there is no food in the house. I am just trying to sleep when I get too hungry."

Goddammit. Thoughts flew in the following order: how scary / I should buy him a pizza / does that actually work. Fuck.

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