My dreams involve me combing my hair

The funny thing about George Michael is that I loved him when I was a girl and I also had a thing for Boy George. I’ll Tumble For Ya, not written with a woman in mind. Father Figure, not for a girl either. I have finally left the days where I found gay men attractive in a sexual way. Quite honestly, I have not fancied a man without some sort of 5-o'clock shadow and a chip on his shoulder in almost long as I can remember. I take that back. David had a boulder on his shoulder and sounded a bit femme on the telephone. I still don't regret leaving him.

I am watching the World Trade Center episode of the Simpsons. It chills me for the bone. I really wish I had a pipe to smoke to relax me. Sarah, I told you today I will start smoking a pipe. I had one a long time ago and enjoyed it. I will purchase a wonderful Stanwell pipe filled with delicious cherry tobacco that reminds me of boarding school. That will be my next investment. I have to decide if I want to buy an Estate pipe or a New pipe. The idea of a stranger breaking in my pipe kind of scares me, but breaking in a new pipe is a pain in the ass. These are things I will contemplate throughout the evening. I will buy the pipe tomorrow along with some teeth whitener.

I wrote a 6-word story for a co-worker and new friend. Revenge is on the phone again. Hemingway always inspires me. His was as follows; for Sale: Baby Shoes. Never worn. I know, mine was better.