Ok, first of all? I realize it's super beautiful out (whoever heard of 20C the first day of April?) but the ladies can put their clothes back on. Ick. Skin everywhere.
Anyway, my confession is I used to have a thing for 'mods'. Now back then that's what they were called. Mods, goth...etc. Now I think they're called Emo but they don't dress the same. It was the jeans (not supertight thank you) rolled up to make room for the 18 holed Docs, the white ripped t-shirt, tattoos (around the arm were my favourite)and skull stuff.
I had a friend once. Let's call him... hm..I need a good goth name because he himself had a good goth name. Ah...let's refer to him as 'K'.
I met K at a bar I was working at near the University. Now I had dropped out because I was seriously failing and I needed the income. So I bought myself a motorcycle (Yamaha Secca 650 1984 thank you very much) and worked nights at a bar. Well, K came in one night, Tuesday night I believe because Tuesday nights are cheap quarts nights (large bottle of beer for 2$ - yes I'm dating myself). He always ordered Canadian. Ick. I preferred 50 but that's besides the point. And he had very straight, very long blonde hair. It was gorgeous. He said he used Timotei. Remember that stuff? Anyway, I thought he was so hot.
Turned out he was a drug addict and couldn't be bothered to chase me so I never did anything. But he did dedicate a song to me. He didn't actually write it or sing it, Pearl Jam did, but it's something that when I hear it, it makes me think of him.
Anyway, I'm writing today and I just saw a mini-version of K. Except he had black hair with dyed red ends. I had to remind myself that's the old me.
I prefer my rockstar Hubby with the honkin' muscle-y arms and firm belly. Um...I have to go now.
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