Tales from my outbox- Thursday morning, 9:35 a.m.

Last night, at circa 9:05 p.m., my mojo died.

A recount of the incident:

9:03- Kim calls. She is having drinks with two male models in Soho. She really wants to introduce me to one of them. (i think she said something like "OMG his portfolio is ridiculous. Puts Brad Pitt in fight club to shame)

9:04- I weigh the necessity of having to change out of sweatpants and pour myself a glass of makers and apple juice.

9:05- I politely decline and say I'd rather order a turkey burger and pass out.

.......................................


Please children, a moment of silence for what was once vivacious and which can now best be described as that of a 78 year old woman suffering from cataracts.

RIP.