Why I love Jacob at TWOP:
Also, though, [Constantine's] hair looks diseased, and the eyeliner makes him look like a palace eunuch in a period piece. You know, like Alexander the Great movies, or Caligula or whatever, where they want to say the guy was into dudes but then there's the Hayes code, so they just have some totally weird/creepy-looking andro dude with girly hair and a smoky kohl-eyed stare in the background as the standard catamite.
I wanna see Anwar and Clay do a duet of "Ebony and Ivory," because all my high school eschatology research would actually come into play at that point.
For her birthday one year I bought Anna a diamond tiara and a tight pink t-shirt that says "I Fucked Mick Jagger" and underneath, all blurry Sex Pistols stencil-style, is the cover of The Man Who Sold The World, and that's the story of the best birthday present I ever bought, and that's the effect we're creating here, in a nutshell.
So the cake is love, and she'll never love anybody in precisely the way that she loved this person, because this person left the love out in the rain. And I guess I've felt that way, like in junior high or something, but for Christ's sake I've not told anyone, because then I'd deserve what I'd get, which is: no love. Ever. I don't want my junior high haircut either, and for basically the same reason: lots and lots of feelings. Also: Depeche Mode.

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