I wrote a bit today in the oddest of places, about something that flashed through my mind not-so-late last night. About how men and women taste. When I think of men I think of cucumbers and yogurt, some sort of refreshing, life-giving recipe that should be eaten with naan.

When I think of women I think of sharp-tasting fruit; like black cherries and newly ripened blueberries. But I have only tasted myself, so I don't know if this is a universal thing.

All of my naughty energy is being taken up by something new and tight. So far it's a short story, that might work itself into a frenzied novella, and finally climax into a novel - who knows? I'll check in here from time to time, usually late at night, when you're drifting to sleep...I'll be there to bite your shoulder and flick my tongue on your salt-laced skin.