September 28th, 2005

Absinthe Nights

The last time I was in Montpellier, I was alone and still found myself talking to myself and having the bad nightime crazies.

So far on this trip with Rome Girl in tow, I seem to be closer to sanity.

Perhaps having a naked woman constantly walking around my apartment is the pheremone equivelent of Paxil.

Sometimes, though, I miss the little bats who would fly in and talk to me at 3 a.m.

Bart