Every time I’m with you, I get your scent on me and it drives me bonkers. You know this so I’m not sure why you feel the need to bath in that aftershave I am certain is bottled sex. Does it give you a happy to know that your post-shower ritual has such a powerful effect on me?
You know, you sound like Ozzy Osbourne when you’re drunk. I’ve been wanting to get that off my chest for a while.
Are we on a slow track to Zack and Miri land? I don’t think so. You seem pretty sure you aren’t going to fall in love with me… Would you know it if you did?
You’re such a odd duck. Maddening. Baffling. Sexy in a way I cannot define. Perfectly matched yet a nightmarish pairing all at once. It doesn’t make any sense to me either.
I was perfectly ok with being friends. I was perfectly ok with being friends who sleep together from time to time. Until you grabbed me, put your lips on mine and started to move them around a few days ago, I was perfectly alright with our friendship. Was my drunken rendition of Come On Eileen so moving as to instigate all that? No, I do not think so. The wheels of your mind have been turning for a while. Maybe those wheels are loose.
The weirdness is going to continue until we just fucking fuck already. This is a rare situation where the fucking will eliminate the weirdness instead of create it. You know it. I know it. Your best friend and roommate know it. My friends know it. It is time you poked me with your Gentile English dick so we can know for sure WTF is going on.
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