"I don't know!" Fraser says without looking up, so that Ray can't tell if the wildness in his voice is anger or sadness or -- or whatever you call that, that thing that you feel when your wife leaves you and you're completely alone and blaming yourself and hating what you grew up to be and too stupid to stop thinking maybe it's all a misunderstanding and it'll be back to normal any minute now. That thing. What do you call that?
I am ded. I call that being ded. Holy fucking canoli, girl. How the fuck can you not be doing this all the time? This story rocks me SO HARD--the anguish, the jealousy, the desperate kisses at the end. How I love this. Holy canoli.
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Date: 2004-10-04 10:55 pm (UTC)From:I am ded. I call that being ded. Holy fucking canoli, girl. How the fuck can you not be doing this all the time? This story rocks me SO HARD--the anguish, the jealousy, the desperate kisses at the end. How I love this. Holy canoli.