... ventured up and down and accross the town getting in and out of taxies, discussing life, death and smear tests. All the while the storm kept on twisting and the snow kept on twirling so that you could not see the end or the start of things. And the lines between space and time became increasingly blurry as the drinks kept coming and more words were spurted and sms were sent. Ahh, life!
Mr. Jones and me tell each other fairy tales. Stare at the beautiful women "She's looking at you. Ah no, no, she's looking at me." (counting crows)
