Wherein He {Still} Makes Music

It's the sweetest sound, really. And I can hear it everyday if I'm sitting in just the right spot at just the right time . . . When I first laid my 17-year-young-eyes on all 6 foot 3 inches of unbridled male virility, I dove, DOVE I tell you, into love. (Which is just a way more dramatic method of "falling" in love.) All I remember thinking was, "ME WANT. UGG." I might've even beat a fist against my chest once or twice. (I don't usually exhibit neanderthal qualities . . . I swear.) To my further [ read more... ]