Then she picked up propane torch with the word Bernz-0-matiC on it and twisted the valve on the side. He had never been as close to her as he was then, as she carried him piggyback down the steep stairs.
Uncomfortably hot in bed, and tossing and turning. Don't seem to have a fever, at least by my scurrilous thermometer, but sleep is elusive. I keep having imaginary conversations with an imaginary person about imaginary sex, and none of it is sexy in the least.
So I'm up surfing the web and looking at pictures of a party that I missed with a lot of really beautiful people. Looks like an awesome party, but I don't know if I'd fit in. Lots of people I don't know, bright people with bright futures and sexy dreams. Makes me wonder what kind of parties I should have at the Big Broken Box™ once it is rechristened. They'd have to be small-- I don't have a warehouse-- but I want to do something particularly themed, something that's sexy and spooky at the same time.
Gah. Maybe I'm just rambling from the cough medicine.
(Jeebus. Some people use this stuff recreationally? I can think of better ways to get high, yo. Then again, some people ingest large amounts of nutmeg to hallucinate, and some have even tried smoking dried banana peels.)
Gonna try sleeping again. You can't be too naked inside an elephant costume.