He kissed my shoulder even though it tasted like bug spray, and we agreed we were on the same page: This was good, whatever it was. For a writer and a lyricist, we aren’t great at words for each other.
After the party ends we have sex in his squeaky twin bed and he dozes off by accident in my arms, exhausted from playing host.
Stipe just so happened to produce the record in the very same home where he and Casey Spooner used to bang each another. Maybe that’s trust, or comfort, or safety, but it feels like coming home.So we aren’t in love with each other, but we love each other, but it’s not really platonic because we joke about how we’ve never just been friends. The flack continues with a long laundry list of seemingly good selling points, to her at least, ’cause she’s a fucking imbecile representing a couple of gay imbeciles that think they’re some kind of civil rights icons ’cause they had sex with each other in some house a long time ago. “Casey made it after his longterm relationship ended and it shows him finding his new voice and chronicling his relationships, hook ups and dating today with technology.Beginning of a dialog window, including tabbed navigation to register an account or sign in to an existing account.