Ok, half of TL is here, and we’re tripping balls. My head feels like a plastic balloon, and the dog crawls across the couch with a nervous detention. ER is here. He’s been out for the past five days, partying, working and playing his music through his days. It feels like I’m wucking my fingers at the keyboard, and I’m nearly amazed that anything happens. Or that I’m moving, really. CC took Dot out. She’s sleeping and in a ball in the lap. It’s tired, and wet outside. Dub Trio is massaging through the air and we feel good. The dog’s now asleep, and SE is doing the chores. M’s woken up and is annoying everyone. ER gets him calmed down. I laugh and my eyes leak from the laughing. ER talks about a dude he met last night.
“He’s talking about politics, or some shit. And he said ‘Shit, dude is that a wedding ring?’” But the son of a bitch had the wrong finger… Read the rest of this entry ?
When you’re dating a guy who you really like, you might start to kind of just a little bit fall in love with him eventually (GAYYYY, I KNOWWW). And when you do…the tormenting of your heart begins. Now all of your eye locking moments aren’t just “sweet”. They’re now opportunities to exchange those magical three (GAYYYYYY) words. You catch yourself biting your tongue every time you want to say it. He should have to say it first, right? But nonetheless, that doesn’t change the sudden awkwardness in the room when some lead hunk in a movie the two of you are watching tells his damsel in distress that he is in love with her. (And you’re GAY boyfriend hasn’t noticed yet that this is all a movie and he is supposed to be the hunk; you…the damsel.) 