The publication won’t stop because of
apartment stuff and I probably won’t go.
I probably won’t go if I am a dirty dance.
The latest in sexual news is shampooed
from the mezzanine up on Saturday night,
the perfect combination of dance and
shampoo with lots of apartment stuff.
I’m hungry and I don’t get up. Except
for talking about what if. It goes up to
five floors or something. Then he says
no problem with me before we hear the
elevator jack off in the distance. Go a-
head and ask him what we tend to do,
sidewalk elevator or cable car? Really
high woman table-talking with a funny
accent. Then he walks by online with
someone I’m dating. He’s an exhibit
and it’s freezing so who’s the voyeur?
