For those of you who are rockin' in the free world (a.k.a. BC), you'll know exactly what I'm saying when I tell you that right now I'm kickin' it old school on THE island.
Truth be told, I lived here in my young days, and I now know what it means to have a place that always feels like home. It's the trees, I think. There's nothing quite like salt air and ivy coated Douglas Firs to wake up a side of you that you forgot you had. Added bonus: assort flavours of good-looking boys, wild daffodils and tons of bunnies hopping around. Score!
So, tomorrow I'm going to be a tourist (no, not the Marla Singer kind) and I'm going to get my wax museum on. I have a thing for fake Anne Boleyns. It might be the extra finger. Wax on....whacks off!
For the record, I'd like to now take the moment to bitch about shitty "pay per minute" hotel lobby computers. Like, I pay $105.00 per night to stay in this shitty house of questionable lodgings and they aren't even going to hook me up with free interweb? Fuck dat noize.
I've got 4 minutes left, and I still have to check my email. Where's a change machine when you need one?
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