Perhaps it is because of you have Mail (that isn’t that great but guy, which was, like, the fantasy associated with the ’90s) or because we work too much or because I’m hardly ever at bars unless I’m performing and even then, when someone hits on me it’s like throwing flirtation into the wind and hoping it lands somewhere near my brain because I was obsessed with coding as a teen (shut up, I was so cool, you guys) or. I do not choose through to it.
Really, me, “Lane, they were hitting on you if I had a dime for every time a friend told. ” as well as, “Lane, they are completely in deep love with both you and are for more than eight years,” I would have at the least 70 cents, perhaps 90. Continue reading →