PJ- I'm mad crushing on your bearded ass. - w4m
We first met a few years ago when you used to chew tobacco to quit smoking. And if I'm not mistaken, you were not very fond of me because I kept talking about how a cat jizzed on your head while you were dead asleep from a long night of binging. I was just intrigued with the concept of a horny cat cumming on someone's face, but I guess it must have been annoying.
Then one day a bunch of us piled into L-'s car and went to a massive clearinghouse thrift store where I bought a PBR pint glass for 50 cents. I was going to give it to A-, but when we got back to the Hawthorne house and I saw you sitting there with the sunset behind you, I couldn't resist. I said, "Here, you can have it," as a means to clear the bad-cat-jizz air. It worked.
We were both hungry, so we ventured to a Middle Eastern place. We sat outside because you needed to spit your tobacco juice on the patio garden. As we waited for our pita sandwiches we talked a bit. Mostly, I remember thinking, "Man, this guy is gross" when you would hurl black tar puss out of your mouth every three minutes. But I think the sickest part is that it didn't really bother me too much.
I visited again this January and told you that I enjoyed playing shows because boys are hot for girls who yell obscenities onstage. You told me that if you didn't play music you would implode. I'm not sure if you actually said you would implode, but that's the jist of what I got. Either way, I admire your passion. And your straight-forwardness and no-shit attitude.
That night you walked me back to A-'s, where I was staying. It was about 3 AM on the mean streets of downtown Portland, but you were willing to brave the transients to make sure that I didn't get mildly accosted by drunk punks on my way home. You're a true gentleman.
On my recent trip back, I noticed you've grown a full beard and I totally dig it. If it works for Against Me!'s Warren, it definitely works for you. This time I stayed over at your house. When you shut off the last fake torch light over the fire place, right next to the couch I was sleeping on, I drowsily mumbled, "Nite..." What I really wanted to say was, "The weather is gray. I'm through with boys, but you're still golden. Let's cuddle."
Thanks for restoring my faith in stupid crushes that can only be semi-satisfied by inane postings on CL for all to see. And I know you're a virgin, but I bet you'd be a fuck and a half, so I'm not worried.
P.S. I totally m-bated thinking about you two nights ago.