Abby is supposed to be in town. Where the hell are you Abby? I've got my party pants on and I'm ready to rock.

Speaking of rock, my guitar came in the mail today. We embraced like past lovers after a long separation. And almost like the first time, I stroked her neck, and coaxed out a few timid chords. A little wobbly, a little out of tune, but soon she relaxed and revealed her true self again. I started running my hands across her shapely body while running my fingers across her hair...I mean strings. Soon enougn we were both singing the same song, and the rhythm increased with renewed confidence. Fast and hard, I wouldn't have it any other way. Who needs an amp? As the last riff rang out, I fell back, clutching her tightly. I caught my breath...and smiled.