So I frequent this ultra punk rock, ultra rad, super underground LA lounge and have been for well over a year. It has become the scope of my social life, for better of for worse. I don't care. The Lounge represents my Happy Place, my Happy Isle. Anyway, the first girl to serve me on the first time I patronized the spot, i found out a minute ago, doesn't work here anymore. It is a shock, but I understand the constant flux of the World and do my best to stay in accord with that mystical dynamism. More often than not I am getting thrown off the cusp, but scratch my way back to the present every moment or so...if you know what I mean. Anyway, here's to Lauren, my fast friend slowed down to homie status, we pray. These words, to you...
Her, milkmaid, the cutest little shrew to tame,
I'd slake my thirst with mead squeezed from her sweat membrane.
This little lust cut with youthful hyacinth,
Smarts so sweetly and induces fly confidence...
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