
I see a pattern - an urge to go tapping the keyboards right after we have sex, and while he is sound asleep or playing his bass on the couch. Maybe it’s because after every orgasm, my mind is so fucking clear, rid of evils and what nots, that I finally know where to start writing.
So here I am.
Sir Patrick, our tenant, is gone. He left us for Germany last Sunday and it feels different to have the house to ourselves. Four months have passed like the wind at the 12 Apostles (damn man they had winds that blew my sister off) but he’s been an awesome friend and a great friend to all our great friends.
More than anything else, he was an omnipresence welcomed – bearing witness to the momentous “cat fight” (the one where we really fought about cats) , my accidental tit flash one sleepy morning, our dinner parties, drinking nights out, our hens and bachelor night and days and nights we can never forget enroute to the knot-tying ceremony. Even our family and relatives kinda miss him because he was such a kindred spirit, always open to learn and understand about our culture and traditions.
I don’t know why everything has been past tensed, haha, and it feels like I’m an aspiring b-grade obit writer.
Pat, you are missed!
We threw him a farewell dinner at Samy's on Dempsey. For pictures click here and here!




3 comments:
Always good to know what you do after sex.
Well, I tend to write more these days which I guess is a good thing!
discreet the details woman!! :) but yea i miss the fuhrer.
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