When will I learn that Alcohol is a Depressant?!? It ain't gonna make me feel any better. Cabernet Sauvignon did me no favours. Oh - this was last week's attempt at drowning my sadness. Only my sadness floats like a turd that just won't get flushed.
Thank God & Tortilla Mary: I am Good at suffering. Have I ever been so blasphemous as to tell you that I Aspire to sainthood? I do.
St. Changa of the Broke & Brokenhearted.
I tripped out on this picture while it was still in my camera. En la frente (my oddly dented forehead) I can make out a robed figure with his arms outstretched...and he's got one horn. Go figure. I cropped the hell out of it and now this makes me crazy:
Cleeek on it if you will than let your eyes travel straight above my nose to just below my hairline....
I can make out the letters "S" and "T".
7 comments:
Now you are my saint. I will say little prayers to you in my moments of bleak dispair. I have been needing a broken-hearted saint for quite a while now.
I always like a little alcohol. Then it makes me sleepy, crabby, and sneezy.
Don't be sad. Who could be sad with Pop pops around? sleepy maybe, but not so sad.
this is such a good picture
I can see stuff in your eyes
maybe not Saints *cough*
but, definitely some good things
love,
your son
Oh G. tell me I'm not as fucking Crazy as I know I am and that you see the "s" and the "t". The one horned dude in the robe - i can understand if you don't see him.
Could be Jesus, could be cake....
Beta and Knitsteel my women of blogland, i sure do appreciate your sadness lifting ways.
I see the little horned guy!
...and I would like to state for the record
I did everything that I could do
I'm not saying that I'm a saint
I just don't want to live that way
no, I will never be a saint...
St Changa, you are the only saint I'd ever believe in...
I just see squiggles in your head just like everyone else when they raise their eyebrows. Sorry, I'm not more creative.
However, you are gorgeous and I am so jealous of your hair. So so jealous.
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