As Dove hummed what was in her head, I translated onto the piano.
Then if it didn’t sound quite right we tweaked it until it did.
can be sent to voodoojoe2000 at yahoo dot com (come on, you can assemble that into an actual e-mail address). Feel free to distribute to friends, enemies, lovers, hopeful lovers, whatever, just keep my name and e-mail address on the story or I shall hunt you down and make you write the whole damn thing out by hand. “That sounds great,” Dove said, excited as we made headway on our song.No, it was her two-hundred-fifty pounds of pure muscle boyfriend that convinced me to change my ways.He walked in just as I was basting his girlfriend’s cervix with my gravy.And despite my best efforts, there always seemed to be someone there to remind everyone that I was a giant asshole.“I’m meeting Ryan for dinner and you tagging along probably wouldn’t be the best way to make him happy,” Dove said, shrugging her shoulders.“I’ll take that as ‘get out now before my boyfriend gets here’,” I said, laughing as I stood up from the piano. From the first time I met Dove’s boyfriend, Ryan, we hadn’t exactly gotten along.