So, I see two of my ex-coworkers from SS/Loral once a month for "buy fro a pizza."
One of them is my anime-tarded cousin, and the other with a Hugh Grant luv'n, pseudo dego.
Tard will, from here on out, be named "Veal" and Grant's biggest fan will be called "Noodle."
So, like, last time we were at "buy fro a pizza," they tried to have an intervention.
You see, because I am dancing and hanging out with trannies, they think I'm becoming gay.
Now, lets analyze these people for a second:
Veal: Makes music videos to Anime, including one for "Cardcaptor Sakura" using, of all bands, Queensryche!
Noodle: When I accused him of wanting to rock Hugh Grants jock, he protested that he hadn't seen a Hugh Grant film in "forever." Then, after a moment of reflection, he recounted all the Hugh Grant films in his Netflicks queue.
So, like, I'm going out, dancing with women, and these two androgynous punks want to intervene on my groove? They can't be serious!
Luckily they're not...
...but they might be on to something...
No, my sexuality isn't changing (sorry boys) but I am a bit obsessive about dancing as of late. I can't listen to music without thinking, or at least being held to witness while my own imagination (subconscious) considers the dance potential of each song.
I've even imagined dancing to Bungle!
I don't know if that is an all time high, or an all time low.
In all seriousness, it's affecting my ability to work while rocking out. I thought Bungle would be my salvation, or at least a discordant, syncopated sanctuary. No. "There be no shelter here."
Hey, that's an idea! Maybe RATM would save me! With their angry git, and their throbbing bass, and their hip-hop influenced metal sounds.
No, I'm absolutely fucked!
P.S. Shoot me if I'm ever caught doing interpretive dance!