Thursday, August 30, 2007

Charlie Meyer I Fucking Love You!

Twenty-seven years ago today was born the sassiest, bestest boy there ever was: the one, the only Charles D. Licious Meyer. Charlie (as I call him, along with Calista McFuckface and Chilera ... long stories, all) is the only man that I list among my closest friends, which seems to confirm his mother's suspicions that I am , in fact, in love with him. However, Charlie and I can never express our forbidden love because Charlie is (gasp!) a gay. Not that that stops him from ogling my boobies from time to time, and not that that stops me from grabbing his butt whenever I get the chance ... it's just how we show our affection.

Here is Charlie riding his "big boy" bike:


True story of the day I first met Charlie: It was the first day of college, and as I made my way to the front door of my dorm, I noticed a white-blond boy in the back of a truck. I wish I could say that he fell off the back of the truck, like stolen goods, and that he had been smuggled into the country by German spies, but sadly he just came from Georgia with two normal parents. He looked happy in the truck, and cute in a California boy kind of way. Later, after many similar experiences, I would realize that my instant attraction to him was my form of "gaydar".

Charlie instantly established himself as loud, funny, and willing to moon just about anyone, which is a mark of character in my book. On our second day of school, irnonically and without provocation, he nicknamed me "slut" and proceeded to make up a song about me sung to the tune of The Lion King's "Hakuna Matata":

Una Matata, what a wonderful lay
Una Matata, ain't no passive play
She means no STDs for the rest of your days
She's your disease-free
Sex machine!
Una Matata.


And the rest is history. Pretty soon we were inseperable. We pretty much wasted a year and a half, but it was fun. Our activities included:

- Smoking pot
- Drinking truly heinous mixed cocktails
- Videotaping ourselves watching TV (often preceded by smoking pot)
- Dancing to Madonna, Lauryn Hill, and Blur
- Making lists of our best features and attributes
- Talking about boys
- Me watching Charlie play Final Fantasy 8
- Going on road trips in his Toyota Land Cruiser
- Dressing up like Anne Heche and Madonna for Halloween
- Charlie getting almost naked and me chasing after him trying to keep him from putting his childhood doll, Beargo, in his underpants

Good times. It goes without saying that neither of us sustained a relationship during this time. We were essentially lovers, without the sex.

Here is Charlie drinking tea:


Hmmm.... that's a little too gay. Here is Charlie being manly with tools:


Charlie lives in Virginia now. As he likes to say, Vagina is for lovers! He lives with his sister and her husband and works at Starbucks. Charlie is the best person you will meet. You should go to his Starbucks and sexually harass him. He will like it.

I miss Charlie all the time, but I know we'll be together again soon. The truth is, I have not been great about keeping in touch with him, even though he is one of my very favorite people. So I guess this blog is to begin to pay him back for all of the unreturned phone calls and too-short emails. Charlie, I love you. And I hope you have a very happy birthday.

In closing, here is a photo of me and Charlie, taken last year. We decided to go through a series of motivational poses. This one is us pretending some bitch just cursed us out from across the bar:


OH NO, SHE DIDN'T!
(Happy birthday, love).
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