Secret Spots

Is there anything in the world I love more than racing the dawn home after an absolute exploitation of all that the wee hours have to offer? I submit that there is not. Tonight was a perfect adventure. A serendipitous bit of seat-of-the-pants flying. I thumbed my nose at the law. I broke my sugar promises. I drank until morning in public places. I took pictures like a blind person. I got to to the 101 Coffee Shop about fifteen minutes before they closed. Just in time to spike my drink and get things underway. I didn't even leave my house until two a.m. That's the way I roll.

My weekend began early and adventurously. I suspect that the next day or two will either pale in comparison or render tonight a flimsy bit of mediocrity. And either scenario would suit me fine. I'm all about superlatives. Make it the best possible thing or the worst possible thing. But spare me the in-between.

You carry around a bottle of Skyy Melon Vodka in the trunk of your car for a few months, and it's bound to come in handy. Lesson learned.