Re: Jack P/Cat C
May it not collapse on you. Wasn't the florist there? He's your friend, you can defend his taste, I will remain convinced he's a fucking idiot. She wasn't anything she wasn't before, that was I suspect, some of why she was convinced I ought to be who I turned up as.
It's not knee-deep in snow and it's not so warm Bukowski spreads out on every available inch of floor to air out his undercarriage.