For a second I kinda felt like the daughter of two doting gay dads. Minus the awkward boob touch. I was a little bit on the tipsy side to mind it, though.
Honestly, I love my homebros. They're legit awesome. Except, well, it can be weird being a femmebro. To update, I went to my hobro's party on Saturday. It was quite fun, and I even had a drink- something that I professed don't really do due to the fact it tastes vile. My bros- well, let's just say they went a step further than me than drinking- had fun as well. They sandwiched me on the couch, and awkwardly trio cuddled underneath a blanket. Don't get me wrong 'cause I enjoyed it, but when I think back, well, the cuddling got a bit too friendly. I only wonder how the situation would have been perceived if I was a realbro.
Still, brolove is deep. I love my bros, and I can see the feelings mutual. It's nice, and no drama attached.
Ps. I totally stalked MUSE even though I missed their concert. Details to come if I'm not a bum.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)