Raindrops keep falling on my head. Every time I step out the office building, there it goes again, falling on my head like a memory. Right as rain, never did get that.
I've often told friends that I need my sunshine, a spoonful of sunshine everyday in my world. A day of hovering clouds, fat and dark, and I'm swirling down the drain of depression. Romantic depressive. Not giving up the ghost, as foolish as it may seem. Bring on the Sinatra, the glass blower's daughter, and the invisible ink. Jump in my drink.
And here I am, naming toothbrushes. It's actually cool. The client wanted us to assign them personalities, like the Spice Girls. So I went looking for some synonyms of "sporty." "Whorish" came up.
Whorish Blue. With Flexi-Grip.