once again proving I have eclectic tastes . . . following up on my Easter haiku, here is a piece for Lance’s 100 Word song. The song of the week is Dead Sara’s Sorry for It All.

Cold wind cut through my jacket. Standing on a street corner at 5 below isn’t pleasant, especially not dressed as I was. Alfonzo picked out tonight’s outfit: pink mini with yellow tights, white go-go boots, topped by fuchsia jean jacket and black bustier. He chose the blonde wig, too. Says the johns like long curls.

“Damn, Stacey, it’s coldern’ a witches teat out here tonight. Ain’t ‘lonzo got any sense ‘tall?” Margot ground out a cigarette, shivered and walked to a waiting car.

“I don’t care what this guy offers, Stace. If he’s got a workin’ heater I’m getting’ in.”