One of Portland, Oregon’s greatest landmarks is Powell’s City of Books. Sadly, I can no longer go there.
It has nothing to do with Powell’s. In fact, me and Powell’s are pals, but I can’t stop myself from forming irrational crushes on anyone who reads books. And once I form an irrational crush, it’s really only a matter of time before I flirt with them in some incredibly awkward way that just leaves us both feeling uncomfortable and dissatisfied.
But that’s just how I flirt. I just encroach upon someone else’s otherwise pleasant day, shit all over it, go home, lock myself in my bedroom and cry, until I lose consciousness or my body simply runs out of tears. That’s why I drink so much liquor; it accelerates the drying out process.
What can I say? I’m a real people’s third gender. I am HOT!
(listen at https://soundcloud.com/yourfaultforlistening/streed)