I have met him. He's the man of my dreams (kind of). He has dark hair, dark eyes, a sexy personality, and he listens to Acid Bath, plus he smokes weed. He's 30 something, has two daughters (one of which is almost my height and has bigger boobs than I), and her birthday is today (she'll be turning 9, the other will be 2 soon). He's with his girlfriend whom he's been with since High school and he is completely uninterested in me in any other way other than professional or friendly.
"My love-life, or lack there of, is always (in some way) fucked-up, or completely, morbidly, sickingly wrong."
This is what happens when the population of the Metal scene is non-existant. We're infected with Nu-Metal fans, poseurs, emo kids, and gangsters. I've concluded I will not find a suitable mate here...and that really, really, you know, because I love living on the outskirts of New Orleans.
"I'm so morbid. I'm so sick. ...and I'm so wrong."
"My love-life, or lack there of, is always (in some way) fucked-up, or completely, morbidly, sickingly wrong."
This is what happens when the population of the Metal scene is non-existant. We're infected with Nu-Metal fans, poseurs, emo kids, and gangsters. I've concluded I will not find a suitable mate here...and that really, really, you know, because I love living on the outskirts of New Orleans.
"I'm so morbid. I'm so sick. ...and I'm so wrong."