A Phoenix Out Of Fire Flames II

I had a very lovely e-mail waiting for me when I got home this afternoon. It reads:
"Hello dear!
If I told you I was falling in love with you, would you catch me? ..."

Apparently a young gentleman from Holland found an old profile of mine on a book review site, and decided to sweep in and f*ck me sideways with this mindblowing line. I am sure no-one will be surprised that I have decided to leave my job and friends and go to live with him in his little opium den in Rotterdam. I imagine I will be somewhat unreachable the first four-five years as I plan to enter into the serial-pregnancy phase of my life. Hopefully my smoking, drinking and testing out the joys of various funghi will not give me problems in this era. Should my beloved pass away due to unexpected (or drug related) circumstances, I am confident my good friends in Finland will lodge me once my money and health runs out.

Meanwhile, in the real world, Norwegian newspapers were happy to announce this morning that Burt Bacharach is coming to Oslo. Who would have thought he was even still alive?

"He came riding fast like a phoenix out of fire flames.
He came dressed in black with a cross bearing my name.
He came bathed in light and the splendor and glory.
I can't believe what the lord has finally sent me."
PJ Harvey - The Dancer (To Bring You My Love, 1995)