Rosaline Honeycock

I have a penchant for collecting small clippings of prose and poetry; am partial to sitting in bed with a good book; love Florence + The Machine, and look dangerously sexy in a pair of red fuck-me pumps.
The Life & Times Of Isabella Summers.

  • After watching the movie Adam I tried dating a guy with Asperger’s. He wasn’t as cute as Hugh Dancy, and he kept doing this weird twitching thing with his mouth every time he was upset so I dumped him. It was right outside a pet store. He sat by the curb and whimpered like a wounded puppy. It was the cutest thing ever.
  • Since my accident I’ve been on heavy duty pain medication, and one of the great things about being sedated is being able to listen to Pop 40 songs for hours and hours without tire or distaste, bobbing your head along to melodies you’d otherwise go blind listening to.
  • Days of stress + one compromised immune system = one very sick maternal guardian. Being the son I am, I offered my old lady a little medicated pain relief. Quicker than a disappointed Hermione can walk into frame and overhear Ron voice his indignation at her correcting his mispronunciation of the spell “Wingardium Leviosa” during a Charms class, my mama was higher than giraffe pussy. Bitch was so relaxed after taking the pills she couldn’t move. She recounted the feeling with a slur, giggling intermittently.
  • She was out cold within an hour. I found her on the couch next morning still fast asleep, and gently reminded her my breakfast was late. My hand’s still a little sore.
  • Receiving a good-sized slice of Kimbra pie with self servings of Lady Gaga live at the Monsterball without a doubt the best gift I could’ve gotten this time of year. Nothing like a little behind the scenes footage, some familiar choreography, and jazz-inspired mood music to pick you up and get the heart running barefoot into a meadow replete with daisies, cartwheeling its way into the horizon.
  • This whole “resting” and not being able to walk thing has put a serious dent in my me-time for the next few months. What’s worse is I’ve developed a tolerance to my pain medication. I expected as much. As you can imagine, with fretful sleep and an aching knee to go unattended for the next few weeks, great times lie ahead of me. Drug withdrawal imminent. Your mother under me. Batteries not included.

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