Oak Mot...

Today is my friend Baxter's birthday. This means that he's really old. This means that I got up early to go to brunch. I don't do this too often anymore because I have absoultely no appetite and because I'm such a lush - I end up drinking way too much champagne and end up all sleepy-headed pooey by evening. I'm a night owl, don't try to feed me mice whilst sleeping, dig?

I have to get ready to bartend now. Which makes no sense. I am buzzed and tired. I should be watching a movie in bed. I miss my old Sundays. Why do I write like a kid at summer camp does to his parents? Miss you lots. XXX

SO.

In honor of Baxter's berfday I give you this thing right here.

Goodnight.