All I have to do...

Last night we awoke at the same time through the sporadic movement of half-dead limbs or to cloak cold, exposed shoulders with the comforter. You said with closed eyes still flickering "It's amazing. I'm playing air guitar and everyone's trying to figure out if it's electric or not. We're about to eat Chinese food...". I told you where I was: "We're going to a Thai place. I'm waiting for Jamie, then to the Long Island beach house that's sinking." We said something like "OK, let's meet up in the morning" then fell back to sleep immediately, easing into separate worlds where foreign cuisine and the actions of objects let our heads leap out the window and off the fire escape while our bodies stayed pretzeled on the mattress.

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mike's apt. warming. the world's biggest bed bug lives in the basement and eats all your lost black socks and bobby pins. this picture feels like a mellow S&M chicken dance-off:Kyra shoots, Jamie gears for posing and I touch a bottle of Vodka that is off limits:After attempting to take the DJ reigns from throngs of German minimal-technoists, I gave up and pestered Josh