I haven't blogged in a while. Things are busy at work at I don't enjoy coming home and using the computer. (Unless it is to listen to music and spy on people.) Instead, what I like to do at the end of the week is watch movies and get some aggression out. Recently I saw "Grindhouse", and I have decided that I would really like a muscle car. This probably seems odd if you know me, and don't worry, I still hate sports, but muscle cars are hot. I've always felt this way I think. I told my dad, and I don't think he could have been happier. (In the same day, he also told me I could leave the animal skull we found on the Shore, at his house to bleach in the sun. I am the child of his heart, truly.) A giant old boat of a car would be so awesome. I could cruise around and listen to rock music. That's about it I guess. Someone would have to teach me how to drive stick. Really, more so than me having a muscle car, would be to meet a dude with one. And the best case scenario still would be to meet a (hot) dude with one, who wasn't into cars. That is key, because liking cars is kind of up there with liking sports for me. Which is gross. However this is not to say that a guy could play football and dislike sports and still be cool with me. Sports are non-negotiable. The most sports I can handle would be a guy wearing soccer shorts. Or playing badminton. Because I like that. And bikes do not count as sports. Bikes are still ok. But a muscle car is just classic. I'm going to get my 8 tracks ready just in case. Or at least a classic rock mix tape. (Side A is for rocking and Side B is for making out.)
2 comments:
Here's what happened ok. David did not tell me he liked sports for a year. A YEAR. We were way to busy sitting in his bunk bed eating soy delicious and complimenting each others body hair. Then, about 13 months into this whole thing, I noticed he stopped crutching to my house in the middle of the night. He got a satelite and it wasn't for MTV's the Real World or Queer Eye. I let him have the playoffs or superbowl or whatever. I'd watch that stuff. It's only a game or two right?
Year #2 was a year of discovery. He was secretly Ebaying sports paraphernalia and stashing it in the closet. I found a child sized Bullets shirt that smelled like cigarettes and cat urine. He got a golden redskins keychain and told me that I couldn't have it. Ever.
This isn't what bothered me really. What bothered me was that I had absolutely no idea that baseball season is 9 MONTHS LONG and that David felt comfortable enough to let me know he would be watching every game he could possibly watch (if there wasn't a punk rock show). I also didn't realize that making out during a game is not allowed. I mean, I let him make out with me during Do the Right Thing!
With baseball, football, basketball and hockey, we have a game to watch every day of the year! Lucky us! I've learned to embrace what I cannot understand which was difficult but has turned out alright. He, in turn, sticks mostly to DC sports. When he visits, he tries not to use the computer at all in fear that I'll catch him on ESPN.com and that means a lot to me.
I love a sports fanatic but you know what... he will ALWAYS drive a mini van.
Good luck with your muscle car.
I totally have that mix tape. Seriously, it's what Jonathan and I did on our first date...rocked out then made out and made a mix tape during the process. It was awesome.
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