Yeah, I do! Fuck yeah!
I mean, what is luxury, exactly? Everybody knows that there's no accounting for taste, right?
Luxury is what you want it to be, man.
Luxury could be two extra hours of sleep.
Luxury could be a week with nothing going wrong in the workplace.
Luxury could be a dead wife.
Luxury could be a poached egg smooshed in sherried crabmeat.
Luxury could be a new Jagyooah and some window treatments.
Luxury could be an absence of strangers working on your house.
Luxury could be a month where you have money left over at the end of it.
Luxury could be a pygmy giraffe and a pair of Eastern Bloc hookers.
Luxury could be all of this, or none of this.
Whatever. Let's fucking luxuriate.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment