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The Terrible Writings of Quentin Montejo
Serial experiments on a fallen archangel who only wanted to regain just one wing back
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Free of the World. Rain worshipper. Hermit. Tormented mind.
Caged spirit. Defiant and eternal enemy of Destiny and Fate. Poet. Scientist. Artist. Daydreamer.
He who laughs. Slacker. Sleeper. Romancer of wings and clouds. Fiercely independent. He who is ponderous.
Games and anime junkie. Four eyes. Caveman. Nature-lover. He who doesn't think that hard. Non-smoker.
Music-junkie. Counter of blessings. Guitar-hugger.
He who simply wants what everybody else would like to be in this world and the next -- to be happy. |
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Sunday, March 23, 2008
Menage a . . . . . Deux
It had been a while.. She was nervous.. Her knees and went wobbly.. She was excited.. Her heartbeat was fast, it was goin a hundred miles an hour.. She had a shot of vodka in the parking lot.. Her flushed cheeks and neck were evident.. She started to walk..
posted by gender-bent |
7:53 AM
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Site design © 2006 Quentin Montejo Productions |
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