I always liked-liked Georgia...

... but she never returned the courtesy. She just wanted to get off.

Every night, it was the same. I'd lay on top of her, in bed, grinding away, and she'd just get off time and time again, telling me to roll off of her when she had enough. She wasn't the kindest person in the world, where being in bed was concerned, but part of me didn't care. That was generally the part that never made it to the surface, the part that the world generally saw. I was murderous most of the time, thinking of her, her genitals, and what she wanted to do with them.

It was sickening, erotic, and arousing. I usually forced her into another round just thinking about it.

She carries a gun now, "for protection," she says. I see. I get it.

She wants me to work twice as hard. She wants it even more than she used to.

If it wasn't for Georgia, I wouldn't have discovered myself.

My original thinking

I was initially going to rip this guy's entire block of CSS, right out from under his blog, but I decided against it. It's a really attractive set-up he has, but it just wouldn't have been nice, nor would it have been creative, at that. I'm going to try very, very hard not to screw around with the layout as much as I think I'd like. Something inconspicuous and content-driven is what I'm going for, and this seems to do the trick. As for the content, the tried-and-infrequent novelistic approach should make a come-back, but for all I know, it'll take a backseat to the non-sensical, random-short-story angle my other blog has taken.

And try not to make sense of the title. At one point in history, a friend and most-of-the-time relative of mine asked me to conjure up a few band names, probably as an improvisational mental exercise. Or maybe because he needed a band name. Galoshes In Nobember is one I came up with, but it looks better lowercased.
...
And thus the end result.

Enjoy.