On my new interest in cars, Miami, Rome, why gay people can’t drive—and yes, the important question tonight: have you fucked in a car? How was it? This is the color I love on an 80s BMW. This one was in a shady Miami parking lot (one night after a lot of blow).
No. I never have actually, but I don’t fancy it myself. The limits and confinement would frustrate me.
My favourite ‘car memory’ is aged 16. Christmas Day. My mum wouldn’t allow my boyfriend in the house because she hated him. It was bitter weather and we were just about to go sit in the cold garage when my mother’s friend and husband said “Tell you what… you can sit in our car”. Omg!
It was warm and cosy. No privacy because it was parked on the drive in full view of everyone but it felt like the most beautiful Christmas gift at the time to two lovestruck teenagers. And we held hands, smiled, looked into each other’s eyes …….and it was perfect.
Of course. I’m not an animal. Many cars. Many times.
You should write a poem about how you didn’t care about cars until you started having sex in them
No. I never have actually, but I don’t fancy it myself. The limits and confinement would frustrate me.
My favourite ‘car memory’ is aged 16. Christmas Day. My mum wouldn’t allow my boyfriend in the house because she hated him. It was bitter weather and we were just about to go sit in the cold garage when my mother’s friend and husband said “Tell you what… you can sit in our car”. Omg!
It was warm and cosy. No privacy because it was parked on the drive in full view of everyone but it felt like the most beautiful Christmas gift at the time to two lovestruck teenagers. And we held hands, smiled, looked into each other’s eyes …….and it was perfect.
Yes and I hate it