Sitka Cold

Sorry for the misbegotten postage, it's just, nothing is as true as our itches, and we got that strange for days, breeders of content; now dis; the minutes in between fuck us up bad. Too much time alone to think, and then out and about and no thinking at all, got my thang on and I want some, I want some. Everybody does. Me and you too. Wasn't much of an apology, granted, but it always was and will be, my favorite show. (me on loop wrapped in a bearskin rug)