do you ever meet a person and know just by looking at them that you’d live a life of extreme disrepute in a cottage somewhere in the Scottish moors where you’d wake up at noon and have lazy sex and then not talk to each other for the rest of the day except to occasionally walk by one another and touch palms briefly only to sit out in the garden past 1AM in wonky plastic chairs smoking cigarettes and fervently discussing the news and crime and politics