You've got a purty mouth, boy...

So, today while we were working a fund raising bake sale, I was trying to explain the awesomeness that is Spencer Reid to Birdie, a fellow geek groupy, when I made the mistake of telling her that he has an exceptionally pretty mouth. Which, of course, meant that the next five minutes were spent with her and James saying "You've got a purty mouth, boy." and "Paddle faster. I hear banjo music." Later, someone who hadn't been there for the first conversation said another completely unrelated, unprompted "You've got a purty mouth, boy." There was much giggling, explanations for said giggling, and then even more Deliverance jokes.

And then, because we're choir kids and our minds are wired to be inappropriate, we made a bunch of innuendos and talked about how sometimes even leaving a dildo in the sink won't get your roommate to move out.

Oh, college. Sometimes I love you.

You've got a purty mouth, boy...

So, today while we were working a fund raising bake sale, I was trying to explain the awesomeness that is Spencer Reid to Birdie, a fellow geek groupy, when I made the mistake of telling her that he has an exceptionally pretty mouth. Which, of course, meant that the next five minutes were spent with her and James saying "You've got a purty mouth, boy." and "Paddle faster. I hear banjo music." Later, someone who hadn't been there for the first conversation said another completely unrelated, unprompted "You've got a purty mouth, boy." There was much giggling, explanations for said giggling, and then even more Deliverance jokes.

And then, because we're choir kids and our minds are wired to be inappropriate, we made a bunch of innuendos and talked about how sometimes even leaving a dildo in the sink won't get your roommate to move out.

Oh, college. Sometimes I love you.

It was like classy, nonsexual porn.

I spent my evening watching pretty, black-clad boys play classical, acoustic guitar. If you haven't picked up on it yet, I have a bit of a...thing for hands. So, to sum up, pretty music, pretty boys, and pretty hands. Ho yeah, it was a good night.

I go to a lot of concerts both because I'm required to attend a certain amount of concerts per semester for my major and because I like music. On Monday I went to an amazing instrumental jazz concert. The trumpet section wasn't all that great, but the rest of the ensemble was pretty stellar. Plus, the guest trumpet player, who was a phenomenal player who made the other players look like ass, was a total cutey, so bonus points for that.

The concert I went to tonight was for the guitar ensemble. All male, all talented, and almost all cute. The only real complaint that I had was that one of the players, who actually played my favorite song of the night, was a mouth breather and his loud, annoying breathing really took away from my enjoyment of his very lovely playing.

On a completely unrelated note, I saw my ex walking from his apartment toward campus this morning. I thought about stopping and offering him a ride, then I remembered that he broke up with me as soon as he realized that I was serious about the physical boundaries I set when we first got together. I let the bastard walk.

It was like classy, nonsexual porn.

I spent my evening watching pretty, black-clad boys play classical, acoustic guitar. If you haven't picked up on it yet, I have a bit of a...thing for hands. So, to sum up, pretty music, pretty boys, and pretty hands. Ho yeah, it was a good night.

I go to a lot of concerts both because I'm required to attend a certain amount of concerts per semester for my major and because I like music. On Monday I went to an amazing instrumental jazz concert. The trumpet section wasn't all that great, but the rest of the ensemble was pretty stellar. Plus, the guest trumpet player, who was a phenomenal player who made the other players look like ass, was a total cutey, so bonus points for that.

The concert I went to tonight was for the guitar ensemble. All male, all talented, and almost all cute. The only real complaint that I had was that one of the players, who actually played my favorite song of the night, was a mouth breather and his loud, annoying breathing really took away from my enjoyment of his very lovely playing.

On a completely unrelated note, I saw my ex walking from his apartment toward campus this morning. I thought about stopping and offering him a ride, then I remembered that he broke up with me as soon as he realized that I was serious about the physical boundaries I set when we first got together. I let the bastard walk.