Flaky McNoShow strikes again
or, Are You of the Corn or Soap Persuasion, Because You Sir, Are a Flake

this is it, my resolution of yesterday to stop making accomodations for flakes has been passed by both houses.

as luck would have it, i had a lovely dream last night in which said unreliable person and i were riding in the back of a convertible also occupied by others of the crew, cruising along and shooting the wind. i remember at one point a cheesy 80s song came on the radio, which led to us discussing how, if i ever had more money than sense, i would buy an analog synthesizer, even if the last few dollars had to be raked up by selling my internal organs as i lay on my deathbed. and you laughed that earnest laugh, and the still shot of your smile was captured in my memory. the air was a little chilly from the wind generated by flying down the highway but your arm next to my side was warm in that pleasantly non-accidental way.