"Mine"

Early in the morning, eight-forty-four...

Hann-y: I left my wallet at home. Can help me collect on the way here? I buy lunch :-(
Me: Okie. Who's home?
Hann-y: Mine.

Doh!


It has been a while, quite a long while, since you've left me with some originalfatmama-worthy wisecracks. Not that you had some, urm... wit to impress me this morning, but duh-ness works for me as well.

My boy, I think I figured why I could tell you were simply out of sorts for the past many many weeks, without even us having any form of contact. Somehow, strangely, just over the virtual space where you and I see each other everyday but never speak - I know you're not you.

Because you don't give me the shit I like anymore. =/


Dude, you'll always know where I am. Where I might end up. I promise.

Just promise me you'll go back to you again - soon.