Relearning (learning) to dance the lindy with bad innards on medical advice to make my esophagus great again.
I dance only one in four songs or else my heart feels like it'll play leapfrog.
If i collapse on the floor I'll be known as the guy who might die when dancing with you. I can make it a thing.
Everybody here is so thin and energetic, except the old guys like me who stay on the sidelines in a mixture of inhibition and exhaustion.
Oh for the good old days of jazz jams on the violin, three whiskeys and a giant smoked hen. The whiskey near me is Laphroaig. I can tell just from the smell. If only...
This whole thin thing is a lifestyle that suits the Tucker you love about as well as 6'5.
Enough of this. Back to the dance floor so I may become death.
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