But I'm not a piece of meat...

I just heard my company will be installing an internet filter system. Secretly, I hope that means Facebook will get blocked because that site is driving me crazy...I feel like it's become a device that only shows me what I can't have as well as demonstrates what a jackass I can be.

Edgar posted a YouTube video of Jermaine Stewart's hit song "We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off." He captioned it: "This has got to be the worst song to hear on a date." I thought it'd be funny to comment: "Also, make sure to follow up with the fact that the singer died of AIDS."

It's true, isn't it? Yeahhh...don't know if he got my morbid humor. Whatever.

He posted a shit ton of new pictures from his trips to Vegas, Chicago and Hawaii...I hardly can stand how handsome he is...such a kick in the teeth.

I have spent far too long admiring this one:



The caption was (of course), "Getting lei'd."

That neck, the scratchy traces of his beard coming in...the softness of his ears...the tickle of his eye lashes...his smooth shoulders...FUCK.

Fuck it. I'm contacting him tomorrow, to see if he's still in for Bill Burr. I am getting drunk Saturday night and I'm hunting down. The sour flash of rejection is better than the abyss of never knowing. It gets boring being this obsessive.