They crashed my crib the other night. It was supermassively fun. They both arrived at 7 pm sharp, the boy on the left drove. As I heard the soothing humming sound of his Range Rover, I quickly ran downstairs and opened the big oak entrance. Gave 'em a bunch of XOs, then off we went to my studio. We talked about random things, we uttered everything that popped on our head. Feminism, quantum physics, Justice and How To Place A Banner At The Top Of A Myspace Page. We learned alien sign language, gave it a little bit of a remix, freestyle. When the exhilarating conversation has to come to its end, the boy on the left decided to take a nap, his fatigue is overwhelming, he said. He jumped on my bed, when suddenly Hendrix the Boston Terrier joined in. It took just about 7 minutes for him to completely fallen into his wet dreams. I immediately captured the priceless moment with my polaroid that he gave me. While the boy on the right grabbed my nylon string guitar and went downstairs to the laundry. He thinks that the laundry room has the most magical sounding echo. Didn't feel like resting, I joined him and held an acoustic session of our own. Of course, as usual, we continue by shutting our eyes and fantasized ourselves floating in outer space, took more polaroids of new born nebulas in bloom, and just visit our friendly colorful neighbours of the nearest galaxies. And wow, as far as I'm sober and is able to remember, I woke up in the morning, here in my room, right beside the boy on the left and Hendrix. I wonder where you went, boy on the right. Thankies for placing me on the best resting place in the whole wide universe. Concerts next week?
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