Dear Diary,
I be gazing in adoration at the picture and mine paramour. We're both very pissed (in the Anglo-Saxon sense of the word not the God bless America sense, it's all good). Anyway. Where were we. Oh yes! Back On the Flex. I've been gazing in adoration, at my portrait, and my paramour, through the haze vegeterian paradise and picturesque vanity borne of musical accomplishment and trystesse. Aye. Another day shall I show thee t'painting lad. Aye
Maxx.
