Confessions of a Lip Biter

a Reverse-Dorothy complex; voracious appetite for witty vernacular; and an affinity for Scotch. Email me at misssilk3@gmail.com

Jul 7, 2012 8:50pm
You know, its not that hot in LA—its close enough to the ocean that its seldom unbearable. I’m sitting here, 9 o’clock at night, running ice cubes across my neck & throat and listening to my neighbor moan dementedly, “Why?” (He’s not dying—I checked)

You know, its not that hot in LA—its close enough to the ocean that its seldom unbearable. I’m sitting here, 9 o’clock at night, running ice cubes across my neck & throat and listening to my neighbor moan dementedly, “Why?” (He’s not dying—I checked)
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