Good, clean, fun.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Remember the night that we only spoke in foreign languages?

Remember the night that we had sex on the railroad tracks?

Remember the night that we watched the old school house burn, hand in hand?

Remember the night I was bucked off of the bull?

Remember the night of peyote in the desert?

Because for some reason, it’s all I remember on this night.

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