There are so many things I love about you, such as when you give me your old Powell/Peralta tshirts, or get ice for me at my job and bring me painkillers when I hurt my back, or help me jump my weird car. I like it that you have electronics that I can borrow, or if I somehow get my own--usually from an awesome boy-- you can fix for me. What I despise about you though is that you shove in front of me toward the end of a show, during my favorite song, and jock around with your wretched friend who, SOMEHOW, has worse hair than you. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE??? Why aren't you out at a beer garden with the other people who work at Enterprise Rental Car?
From,
Me
PORTLAND 4-EVA
ReplyDeleteThe Tamale Guy ran into me at the Bottle that night while Nachtmystium was playing, and he disappeared into the mists of the night...
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