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Sat, May 16 2026, 11:27am PDT [ Login ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, 3, 4, [5], 6, 7 ]

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Date Posted: Tue, Sep 28 2004, 9:22pm PDT
Author: Guy Snow
Subject: All my ex's live in Texas

He walked with arrogance, the kind of arrogance you know he's earned. A long swinging stride, with no longer than average legs, and nothing really more than average about him. His arrogance and attitude was all over the way he carried himself. The block jaw held high, tightened fists, always being cracked, popping knuckles, a stupid tough guy habit. Not all that tough, he'd only learned to carry himself that way because that's the way he was expected to carry himself back home. It's easy to be undefeated when you haven't stepped into the ring. He was a baseball boy at heart. You could see it from the callouses in his hands, the permanently darkened knee caps, and most easily recognizable. The block number 8 tattoo'd on his back. You had to be intimate to see that though.

He wore a simple red polo, and grey faded denim jeans. He also wore a Padres hat on his head (despite his disliking for the team, he was also a sucker for matching fashions) and an oh-so-tacky "Got Beer" bottle opener belt buckle. He put it to use, opening a bottle of corona and stuffing the cap into his pocket. He settled in on a stool nose in the sports page but eyes in the back of his head, he had a 6th sense for ladies, well it was no sense. He just happened to love each and everyone he saw, or hadn't seen yet.

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