Wrote this at Morgan's house after pumpkin carving.
October 30, 2010.
Your mom's going to have a late-night rave, Disney songs on the TV radio, Password 0402. The dog stares, screams, oh god help me I'm dying. (What did you expect when you fed him cat food.) Really nice flowers, these little flames. I wonder what's in these things, sections on internet porn and vicevelvet gumbo, I'm sure you're into that. Barely inexpensive auctions, let's have a yard sale! The dog's fur is cutest around the eyes, scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch and they've already decided to have sex, get married, and quota reception in the hall. I can't imagine you carrying that, somehow. 18+ out, IT'S NOT FAIR! Can you imagine?
A whole crew of her own,
Seven
Twelve
Here for Christmas.
Maybe It's a curse.
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