[chapter five]
Disclaimer: If you've heard of
them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please.
;-)
**
Brendan and I once argued whether Journey could be considered a hair band, based solely on the power of Steve Perry's mullet.
We didn't always argue about intellectual things, political, religious, educational, social or economic issues.
Sometimes we did.
Mostly, we didn't.
Sometimes we just argued to argue.
(Final tally: Journey is not a hair band as a whole, but Steve Perry could have had a future with Dokken or Iron Maiden if they had needed a hairy lead singer)
The Very Private Journal of Holly Neale
Oh yay.
Let's totally embarass ourselves by fighting in the garage area.
I was walking by, on my way to find a member from Ryan's crew when Brendan, like, ACCOSTS me in the garages.
Heated words followed.
Excerpts:
"What the fuck were you doing?!"
"Did you fuck him?!"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
"You are fucking with my heart!"
"This is none of your fucking business!"
"Stop being so fucking possessive!"
"Fuck you!"
"Fuck you!"
All of which, of course, were at increasing levels of noise.
I am a tad embarassed, and Brendan is mightily pissed.
This can't be good.
And yet, I'm strangely flattered and fuzzy all over at the thought that Bren is this possessive, angry and feisty at the thought of me with any other guy.
Still wrestling with that one.
The Very Private Journal of Holly Neale
What did I ever see in William Brendan Gaughan?!?
Dammit.