Was it love or fear of the cold that led us through the night?
It's a weird thing with music-- I hate to sound elitist on the subject, but there really is something to be said for the disgust one feels at a quality musician being embraced by the mainstream. I've been listening to Mumford and Sons on constant loop because it hurls me back to months ago when I first arrived in Oregon, and makes me think of driving with Trev through the Wilammette Valley or walking through the snow-dusted piney woods. Alas, hearing "Little Lion Man" played on the Edge alongside Blue October or some shit really makes my stomach churn. What do most people think when they hear that song? Probably, "FUCK YEAH I LOVE HEARING THE WORD 'FUCK' IN A SONG WOOOOOOOOOOOO."
Speaking of which, I would like state my love for Trevor Smith and my complete fidelity in his absence--but I would fuck Marcus Mumford. I really would fuck his brains out. I think it's because he shares the English Gentleman of Olde element that I love about my Trevy, vests and mustache and all that. It's also because I've been without sex for a month.
Aaaaanyway, living with Anna has been a dream. I cannot imagine a more accommodating hostess or better friend to share my time with. What a peach! <3
Trev's triumphant return from the Christmas tree lot is imminent, and I'm trying to think of special ways to welcome him back. I'm thinking we'll settle in with a case of good wine and liquor, some weed or drugs of some sort, some board games + movies + exciting lingerie (it's terribly hard finding sexy negligees that fit Trev's broad shoulders-PSYCH!), and not leave each others' side for days. I want to get him an extravagantly expensive bottle of Krug champagne...but several good bottles are better than one REALLY NICE one, so perhaps that can wait until New Year's. At midnight I am going to give him the most embarassingly pornographic kiss I can muster, complete with groping and slavering tongue licking his face. Haha, ewww, probably not after all, but nothing tame for sure.
I thought I had more to say but apparently my preoccupation with sex is too overpowering. On that note:
Slay me on the mandoline, lovverrrrr. 8==> Obsessed.
Speaking of which, I would like state my love for Trevor Smith and my complete fidelity in his absence--but I would fuck Marcus Mumford. I really would fuck his brains out. I think it's because he shares the English Gentleman of Olde element that I love about my Trevy, vests and mustache and all that. It's also because I've been without sex for a month.
Aaaaanyway, living with Anna has been a dream. I cannot imagine a more accommodating hostess or better friend to share my time with. What a peach! <3
Trev's triumphant return from the Christmas tree lot is imminent, and I'm trying to think of special ways to welcome him back. I'm thinking we'll settle in with a case of good wine and liquor, some weed or drugs of some sort, some board games + movies + exciting lingerie (it's terribly hard finding sexy negligees that fit Trev's broad shoulders-PSYCH!), and not leave each others' side for days. I want to get him an extravagantly expensive bottle of Krug champagne...but several good bottles are better than one REALLY NICE one, so perhaps that can wait until New Year's. At midnight I am going to give him the most embarassingly pornographic kiss I can muster, complete with groping and slavering tongue licking his face. Haha, ewww, probably not after all, but nothing tame for sure.
I thought I had more to say but apparently my preoccupation with sex is too overpowering. On that note:
Slay me on the mandoline, lovverrrrr. 8==> Obsessed.