Slightly annoyed; slightly drunk

Nashville, if my boob freckle can’t persuade you to make small talk with me, I just don’t know what can.

12 thoughts on “Slightly annoyed; slightly drunk

  1. There is no nashville making small talk, big talk, any talk.

    It’s made “Nashville Is Talking” kind of….

    dry.

    This is like the weekend that EVERYONE swore of blogging.

  2. Okay, I can see how that’d be fun for you, but I can’t see how that’d be any fun for me. No, I think it’s far better if the boob freckle reaches Bigfoot levels of legendary status, with people claiming to see it, people hoping to see it, and people hiding behind my garbage cans trying to see it.

    If you got all my wit and photos of the boob freckle here at Tiny Cat Pants, why would anyone ever bother to visit me?

  3. Always annoyed, working on getting slightly drunk. Tried last night, didn’t happen. Working on it again.
    It’s been that kind of weekend.

  4. Is that what the scary hobos were doing out behind your place? Trying to get a glimpse of the elusive boob freckle?

  5. I hadn’t thought of that. I guess it’s a very good thing I didn’t ask Sarcastro to come over and shoot them. It’d be very embarrassing if they turned out to be fans.

  6. I think if they saw you strutting around with your awesome gun, they might not even mind terribly. Sure, they’d be pissed about being shot, but it would be outweighed by their admiration for how awesome that gun is.

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