|I know, Ricki, I'm stoked on his outfit too|
- A pair of dirty, low-cut Chucks: BAM!
- Slim jean cutoff shorts that frayed at the knee: BAM!
- A soft, thin summery t-shirt: FUCKING BAM!
- Messy hair that's getting in his eyes: BAM!
- A little bit of sweat on his collar: HOLY SHIT FUCKING BAM!
I wanna smell his earlobe. I wanna lick his neck. I wanna pop off his shirt and write my name on his back with my fingernail. I wanna take him to my favorite spot for iced coffee. I wanna see him lean against my stove and nod as I tell him about my day. I wanna play him my favorite Bob Dylan songs. I wanna hear about his old band (for up to five minutes.) I wanna make him grilled cheese. I wanna fall asleep in an air conditioned room with his arms around me watching episodes of The Universe.
This guy and his ratty outfit is the best thing about summer, HANDS DOWN.