Sunday 31 May 2009

A Dusty Rug In The Sun

Blanketed in a vintage wooly jumper, the snowflake pattern had the pleasure of the sun melting down on it. The air was thick of BBQ smoke and mist, but I didn’t mind as it thickened my quiff just a little bit. So I laid back on a dusty rug, listening to Electric President in my head and sipping rum through a straw.









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