Listening to: Lucinda Williams, Car Wheels on a Gravel Road
A long post, like the last post (broken up into four different posts, with a little creative manipulation of the time stamp) took the wind out of my sails. Left me with some creative constipation that I fear I still have not overcome. So I'm wingin' it here, the obligatory post to satisfy the 2 or 3 regular readers who have voted for me in the BoB contest where, the dog I have in that fight is a Shih Tzu amongs Bull Mastifs.
My children believe in the healing power of my kisses. Any boo-boo is instantly succored by the application of my lips. Except for Zeke. Zeke is specific, "Not there, Daddy, here... not THERE, Daddy, HERE... no, not there..." If only those kisses could help me with this contest.
At least the women I've dated have told me I'm a good kisser, too. Between the medicinal value of my kisses and their apparent ability to garner a compliment, they must count for something.
The comments for the previous post included a very sweet compliment, unfortunately, anonymous. A kiss to whoever that was...