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Literally, I take a two-second photograph, and now I’m obstruction personified. I’m responsible for every subway delay, every road closure, the very phenomenon of wind resistance.
You’re probably already cringing, but whatever.
I just think you’re meant to meet some people. I think the universe nudges them into your path.
Super casual. This doesn’t have to be weird.
Because apparently that’s the way to prove it’s not an innuendo. By spreading my hands out dick-measuringly.
Box Boy dates guys. I’M A GUY.
It’s weird—now I want to prove it. I want some gay ID card to whip out like a cop badge. Or I could demonstrate in other ways. God. I would happily demonstrate.
“Stop seeing past my bullshit, it’s my bullshit.”
Big Ben, in a single moment, I gained a future wife and an unlimited supply of coffee.”
“Only you could make drinking coffee sound nefarious.”
Out of context, it sounds like he's drinking liquor instead of coffee. Although caffeine IS a drug....👀
I don’t lose his awesomeness again like I have every time he meets the One.
So there's been more "The Ones", LOL
like he’s going to bill me for this conversation.
Social security number.
Something my dad would ask 😆
Dylan claps. “Okay. I’m sold. I am shipping you with the boy you met when you were supposed to be shipping relationship relics to your last boy.”
Why am I Dylan?
I’ll get a ski mask and some gloves and handle this sumbitch in the dead of night.
