The picture is the only thing that doesn't settle right. I like the colors, I like the feel it gives off, and I especially like the guy playing trumpet. Who (if need-be) could possibly represent yours truly. However, if you'll please notice the woman on the couch. For one thing, she's as alluring as a drawing could be. She's got that whole sexy/mysterious/hip look going for her which I totally dig, daddy-o (and in case you're wondering, no, I don't have a thing for cartoon chicks). But take another look at her, you'll see that her mouth is open like she is or is going to say something.

The look on her face tells me it can't be anything good. She's got an overly confident look on her face. It's like her attitude would be "I fear no consequences because of what I say. If you don't like it, deal with it." That's a force to be reckoned with. I can imagine the conversation between her and myself would be something like this:

"Steven, I'm not content."

"Well darling, what is it you desire? Tell me anything, and it's yours."

"I want to be content."

"Oh, ok, thanks, bitch."

Or, seeing as how the glass is half full, she could be singing along to whatever song it is I'm playing. That's my kind of gal. I'm jazzin' it up and she's doin the same. Damn we're hot together. Now if only she didn't have that cigarette. Actually, both of them are hers, because I would never, ever, smoke a cigarette. I find a woman fifty pounds overweight with a moustache and three teeth more attractive than a woman who smokes. Remember kids, it's a tumor causing, teeth staining, smelly, puking habit. But anyways...

That's it, I got nothing.

Marie Kieffer rocks my fucking everything.

MUSIC: Copeland - Coffee