Triple H

I transmit tiny amounts of information that divulge huge assumptions about me. Basically it’s this: I’m horny, hetro and hungry. Anything else gleaned is stupid, self-centered speculation.

Oh, and I’m not screwed down. I’m freelancing life, though seemingly committed to a commute.

Cali calls again. My molecular structure alters.

This process will repeat, I think, until I OD. Unless I reproduce, or commit. (How many more “meh” may I invoke? I love this word/thought.)

I’m in the northeast. Points elsewhere looming, beckoning.