Today I went to the Farmer’s Market, because, clearly, it is what all the Cool Kids do on their Thursday afternoons, and went to buy fennel and peaches and other delicious things. My super sekrit ulterior motive was to also see my favorite hottie vendor from Kashiwase Farms and to buy overpriced peaches from him. I did that after much deliberation and mincing and dropping my onions (but not my apple juice) and convinced myself that he shaved the 5 cents off my 3.05 $ purchase of fruit just because I wouldn’t stop smiling at him and not because it is common thing to do that people would wail about were it not in practice. I am also determined to take a proper picture of him someday (like, from some other vantage point that doesn’t involve being behind a rack of bell-peppers and strawberries).
Okay, so I’m a little Sticky Rice. (Shut up and stop ruining my plans. I LOVE YOU FRUIT VENDOR, YOU MAKE ME FEEL ALL TINGLY mmmmmmmmmmmmmlet’smakebabies. I also love how your teeth aren’t perfect.)
Also, friend who I visited today HAAAAAAAHAHAHAHA ahaha AAAa aaha haaa! ha haa aaaa aa aaaah I HAVE FRIENDS. I REALLY DO. aah ha hhhhhhh hhh h h h
who would very much like to work at Steamworks (you know, that bathhouse that had the name-brand free condom/lube combo samples in the QARC) stated that he was androgynous, when clearly he is not because he is 6’4” and is quite manly and is a bass and was standing right next to me. It was concluded by a third party that he is not, whereas I am, and I geisha-giggled and they found it creepy. He then later stated that androgyny is hot. To that I replied “But if you’re gay, don’t you kind of want a man?” to which he argued something, then disproved his own point by saying that everyone prefers lipsticks. I can only conclude that he was being polite and trying to comfort me in the fact that I will never ever ever get laid. (Not that I want to, by the way)