Julian Casablancas gives me that. And it’s kind of a problem.
I know, I know, I’ve written like 7 (more like 2…) posts about him and his faaaaaace…but I’m hardcore stupid right now. And usually when I write stuff it isn’t quite this obnoxious or silly…I like to think I’m at least a little sophisticated. But Julian turns me into a Beatles fangirl and I want to tell y’all about it.
Let me make the internet my diary.
I love Jules. Laike, soooo much. He is so dreamy and delicious, like a Spanish waffle, because those exist. He is a hunky fudge sundae and I JUST WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!
I know he was basically a raging alcoholic and fell over on stage a couple times because of that, but maybe I like my boys to be baaad. Maybe I think alcoholism is sexy (or, you know, maybe I don’t, because it isn’t…) Maybe I like when boys are rockstars (because who doesn’t). Maybe I enjoy a good red skinny jean on a fella. Maybe I’d just like to be his wife and stuff…
Just let it happen. Just embrace it, world. Just do it. Nike told me I’m allowed to date Julian Casablancas in my head.
Anyway, I got the squiggly wigglies in my tummy and wanted to talk about it.
PS Oh. And his music moves my soul. Or something…