Greetings, dear Reader!
On the eve of Spring, I am back to dust off this nascent blog and once again attempt to keep a writing routine. Can’t judge a girl for losing her focus when there are so many cocktails, bars, and boys to conquer, now can we? This wide world is full of distractions, and I am so easily distracted…
I must admit a certain focus has be lacking in my lush life, and so I will attempt once more to do something creative with consistency. Or, try to. For now. Though I do realize I had quite hardly started much. So, like the sexually inexperienced, my blog is starting and stopping and starting again with quite irregular rhythm–my b, y’all.
Now for some paperwork: I will, I SWEAR, continue the saga of the Winnebago. I couldn’t possibly leave you, dear Reader, hanging! You deserve to know how our flirtations progressed from bar to recreational vehicle… and trust me, it is quite worth the wait. I mean, I was serenaded. On the street. With poetry. **Sploosh**. (Am I right?)
But for now all I can spare is just a few photos of my lush life in action. I am trying to be more sociable in 2014, and I’ll be damned if I don’t have at least a half dozen (or more!) stories to share because of it.
Why bother writing unless there’s something salacious to be writing about? There’s a reason the most notorious writers are drunks, addicts, and other unsavory types. They had terrible lives to share with the world! And boy, do I hope to add mine to that list. So without further ado, some pictures of a lush out on the town and fully committed to revelry: