today, i.

awoke to the smell of blueberry muffins, crowned with a pretentious sugary lace. mrs. maryann perry have prepared them just for me. i ate on the right side of polite but the wrong side of common sense, and so i grew very pleasantly ill. but managing still a republican smile, i allowed myself to be driven through the wanna-be hills of raleigh, north carolina, to the center of all things international, the raleigh-durham international airport.

one gingerale later, i found myself in a bitter-sweet reality. i was back in the prison called florida, but instead of plasma TVs and work-out centers, my piege (that's french, you know) was balanced with the sweet oil-pastel visages (and there it is again) of florida's finest. that's right.

boys.