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Gina is sitting in her recliner with the ignored Olympics on tv, staring at her pictures of Trask and JCM from last night. And, I must admit, the picture of her and Trask, my current God, is really damn beautiful. I did manage to notice that much last night, despite my pretending to be Matt's personal assistant. (Our silent communication was impressive; I had planned to get a picture of Pinky with the Brain, but a slight nod told me that my charge was ready to be escorted away from his admirer. From Gosford Park I have learned that a good servant always anticipates the needs of her master; the pumpkin and I left quickly and quietly; I saved my squealing outburst for our emergence from the vicinity; and, yes, I had managed to notice how absolutely adorable those two were.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:44 PM | shower me with attention