So I'm at a concert, and dancing like mad- in the middle of a crowd of pretentious, boring white people who don't dance because they suck- and my hag taps me on the shoulder and says, "You're getting looks in the good way." Ooh, la la. She wrote me a note and said, "The boy in the purple shirt with the white collar keeps looking at you out of the corner of his eye." Well, that sounded about right- he was totally cuddling on his dude friends and I thought he was looking at me earlier. So I kept dancing. My hag eventually grabs me and tells me, "Move to your left." I think she was trying to move me closer to the dude from context. I think. Anyway, Purple Shirt dances with other dudes for a while and doesn't make a move on me. I am disappointed.
My hag leaves.
The headliner band starts to play.
I start dancing even awesomer than I had been.
Purple Shirt comes over and totally dances with me.
It was great.
I thought about getting his number, but I'm too much of a pussy for that. : (







~!~!~!~!~
--
we're freakin' out,
cause we're runnin' out of time
but to do what?
gotta stop and think of that...
--
Mother will always love me...
from underneath my azaleas.
--
we're freakin' out,
cause we're runnin' out of time
but to do what?
gotta stop and think of that...
--
Abby was here.
--
Abby was here.
--
Abby was here.
--
Mother will always love me...
from underneath my azaleas.
--
we're freakin' out,
cause we're runnin' out of time
but to do what?
gotta stop and think of that...
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