[Ed. note: republished with permission.]
 

Once again, to mellow and enhance her strong flavors, a shot of Lulu is best enjoyed with a wedge of lemon and a pinch of salt.

She writes a poem,
and then apologizes.
"It's tequila's fault"
 

Another hypothetical conversation.

You: Haiku again? That's still weak.

Me: Hey, it's Saturday again. And I'm still phoning this shit in.

You: Last week I wondered if there's something wrong with you. This week I know there's something wrong with you.

Me: Aww, don't be like that. Take two, they're small.
 

Lulu and Matty,
going to a Raider's game.
Fecal matter bets?
 

You: Still weak. When's Lulu coming back?

Me: Stop it. You secretly love me.

You: Not when you're posting haiku, I don't.

Me: You're still not sold on my mad haiku skillz? Have another.
 

Girls from Iowa:
No makeup? No pushup bra?
Lulu is a star.
 

You: You're not improving your standing.

Me: Another!
 

Secretly, Lulu
has a big thing for PeeWee.
She tries to deny.
 

Me: Take that!

You: When's Lulu coming back?

Me: Ok, one more.
 

Favorite photo:
just one man, isolated,
dark night at the bay.
 

You: Please stop now.

Me: You just don't appreciate haiku.

You: Whatever.