Wednesday Confession
When I met Rod I was dating someone else--a Polish emigre named A. A. was a bodybuilder and really into motorcycles. He worked as a surveyor in the suburban Maryland town where I was living and had a twin brother named P. At that point in my life I was really into men with accents--Mexican, Polish, British, Southern. Didn't matter where they came from--it was the pure otherness of their voices that turned me on.
When I met Rod I was dating someone else--a Polish emigre named A. A. was a bodybuilder and really into motorcycles. He worked as a surveyor in the suburban Maryland town where I was living and had a twin brother named P. At that point in my life I was really into men with accents--Mexican, Polish, British, Southern. Didn't matter where they came from--it was the pure otherness of their voices that turned me on.
posted by Minerva Jane at
1:55 PM
3 Comments:
Ooh, I love comments, too.
Accents are cool. As much as it sometimes annoys me when people ask me within minutes of meeting me, "Where's your accent from?" (they can never tell I'm Italian, usually it's Swedish or Canadian, which is odd), I like that it's still there, like a constant link to my Italian-ness.
Okay, that's weird. So I just stopped back and noticed that my comment made absolutely no sense. I think I was seeing the word "comment" as I typed. How embarrassing. What I meant was that I like *accents*, too. Oops.
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home