a photo prediction of my new year’s eve
cocktails. flirting shamelessly with hh. pearls still on straight.
handbag and shoe showdown with newport's finest cougars and kittens
hh seducing me school girl giddy
dj pumps out "safety dance". i can't contain myself..."ssss...aaaa.....fffff...eee"
mini dance floor break for fluids and hamstring stretching
amused by the oc hookers drunken debauchery. always an overturned purse, dropped cell, spilled valtrex bottle.
back to dance floor. interpretive dramatic hour.
pearls lost. head pounding. i hate new year's eve.
just a prediction. maybe everyone will cancel at the last minute, want to stay home, and we’ll play canasta. i’ll still get one hip shake to “men without hats”.
click image for source