Ah yes, my lovelies...I'm back in Atlantic City, and not much has changed here. The roach motel still reminds me of Calcutta, and there's nowhere you can walk without getting hooted at. Ah, the US of A. Nevertheless, I'm fired up because I've managed to find a salad that isn't salty and deep-fried.
Of course, I'm kicking myself because in spite of my stupidly heavy suitcase, I've managed to forget my bathing suit, workout shorts and one of my outfits for the show. And my toothbrush. Guess that means I'll have to go shopping. I know, I know, oh the humanity....
1 comment:
Crap.
I think it's just going to be that kind of week. My drummer is off in Bora Bora, my bass player is just back from the hospital, and my personal mlife is now officially flushed down the toilet with loads of the toxic variety of ...(see opening statement above).
Sigh...and I won't be back until July 11th.
It never frickin' fails...I feel like Ziggy.
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