You Trained These Lips When They Were Champs
Login.02
I just sit there for a while.
Okay, either Tom's credit card got jacked, or bird-eman is Tom Falcone.
But whatever the reason... They're paid for. I hook up my thin little laptop printer and print them both off.
Then my eye catches something as they come out of the printer: right next to 'ROW 1' on the tickets, it also says 'BKSTG PASS.'
BACKSTAGE FUCKING PASSES.
FOR CUTE IS WHAT WE AIM FOR.
I think I'm gonna scream.
I click back on the private chat button in the taskbar, because it's been blinking orange for the past minute or so.
bird-eman: Stunned?
May-hemAnnie: YES
May-hemAnnie: I LOVE YOU
bird-eman: It's a little sudden, but I suppose I can roll with it...
May-hemAnnie: Platonically, buttwipe. Dang. I mean, what else do you say to a guy who just threw two front-row tickets and backstage passes for your favorite band at you?
bird-eman: So you caught that little surprise?
May-hemAnnie: Which one? There were two.
bird-eman: The backstage passes. But another surprise? What are you talking about?
May-hemAnnie: Ticketmaster always puts the cardholder's name on the tickets. Is that your first time using Ticketmaster or something?
bird-eman: Damn.
May-hemAnnie: If you weren't a fellow admin I'd report you for swearing. Also, you just gave me front row tickets, and backstage passes. But dn't worry, I won't tell. About either part. Who you are, and the swearing.
In reality, I am going NUTSOID. Whacko. Loopy. Bonkers. I am talking to TOM FLIPPIN' FALCONE.
From CUTE IS WHAT WE AIM FOR.
And I must ask, how did I get so lucky?
But online? Oh, no, I'm cool as a cucumber.
bird-eman: If you tell me your real name I'll add you to my friendslist.
May-hemAnnie: Take out the [ hem ] and the [ ie ]. Leave the hyphen, and make the a lowercase.
bird-eman: Ummmm... This'll take a sec... May-ann?
May-hemAnnie: You're good. Nobody ever gets that.
bird-eman: Yeah, I'm just good like that. Got a webcam?
May-hemAnnie: Ahyup.
bird-eman [admin] has sent a webcam request.
I click 'Accept' and my webcam tells me it's up and running.
Then Tom (yeah, it is Tom for sure now, I kow that) gets this 'WHOA' look on his face.
bird-eman: If you'll pardon me for saying this...
I smirk and he gives me thins huge, full-blown pearly whites smile. Oh he's just so cute. He tunrs his head down to type. Hunt & peck much?
bird-eman: YOU'RE EFFING HOT.
May-hemAnnie: Pardon me, I need to turn off my webcam and spazz out now.
bird-eman: NOOOO!! Don't gooo... Feel free to spazz, I get it from thousands of fangirls at every show.
May-hemAnnie: Mmhm. And has anyone ever told you that they're not just screaming for you? Sorry to burst your bubble, darling dear, but they yell for your fellow band members as well. <3 Specifically Jeff. He's gorgeous =D
bird-eman: Aww maaaannn!! I thought I was the only one with any fans!
He's grinning his face off.
We talk till the wee hours of the morning, in this case meaning two a.m.
May-hemAnnie: I'm sorry, darling dear, but I have to log off. I have work today.
I stick out my bottom lip and draw an imaginary tear line with my finger down the side of my face.
bird-eman: Whoa, it is late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. But me too, I have a show later.
May-hemAnnie: Chicago! But it's only midnight there...
bird-eman: I meant for you, but you really have done your research! It's so flattering it seems stalkerish... Haha, joking. <3
May-hemAnnie: <3 as well! So, goodnight, same time tomorrow?
bird-eman: Sure. Goodnight, May-ann.
May-hemAnnie: And you too, darling dear Tom.
He blows me a kiss on the webcam, and I hit the 'Print Scrn' key REALLY quickly and return the kiss.
bird-eman [admin] has logged off.
I log off too, and open up a new canvas in Paint. Yeah I'm totally old-school that way. I paste the screenshot into the blank canvas and crop out everything but Tom Falcone blowing me- ME!!- a kiss, save it, and set it as my background.
I have to say, he's pretty much totally wicked awesome.
I check my e-mail again, to see if someone's sent me anything in the last oh-three-hours-or-so. There's a brand-new, minute old message from Tom.
To: mayhem_annie@ciwwaf.com
Sender: tfalc_ciwwaf@hotmail.com
Subj: my cell number
Body: Call me later, I want to hear your voice. <3 Noon, for you.
Then he has his number.
I scream, probably waking up everyone in my apartment complex. I grab my cell phone and fumble with it, and eventually get his number in there. I e-mail the picture of him blowing a kiss to my cell, and set it as the picture I.D.
And another fun-flled day is over with, so I finally go to sleep- three hours later than I had originnally anticipated, but I hada minor an amazingly awesome setback.
Okay, either Tom's credit card got jacked, or bird-eman is Tom Falcone.
But whatever the reason... They're paid for. I hook up my thin little laptop printer and print them both off.
Then my eye catches something as they come out of the printer: right next to 'ROW 1' on the tickets, it also says 'BKSTG PASS.'
BACKSTAGE FUCKING PASSES.
FOR CUTE IS WHAT WE AIM FOR.
I think I'm gonna scream.
I click back on the private chat button in the taskbar, because it's been blinking orange for the past minute or so.
bird-eman: Stunned?
May-hemAnnie: YES
May-hemAnnie: I LOVE YOU
bird-eman: It's a little sudden, but I suppose I can roll with it...
May-hemAnnie: Platonically, buttwipe. Dang. I mean, what else do you say to a guy who just threw two front-row tickets and backstage passes for your favorite band at you?
bird-eman: So you caught that little surprise?
May-hemAnnie: Which one? There were two.
bird-eman: The backstage passes. But another surprise? What are you talking about?
May-hemAnnie: Ticketmaster always puts the cardholder's name on the tickets. Is that your first time using Ticketmaster or something?
bird-eman: Damn.
May-hemAnnie: If you weren't a fellow admin I'd report you for swearing. Also, you just gave me front row tickets, and backstage passes. But dn't worry, I won't tell. About either part. Who you are, and the swearing.
In reality, I am going NUTSOID. Whacko. Loopy. Bonkers. I am talking to TOM FLIPPIN' FALCONE.
From CUTE IS WHAT WE AIM FOR.
And I must ask, how did I get so lucky?
But online? Oh, no, I'm cool as a cucumber.
bird-eman: If you tell me your real name I'll add you to my friendslist.
May-hemAnnie: Take out the [ hem ] and the [ ie ]. Leave the hyphen, and make the a lowercase.
bird-eman: Ummmm... This'll take a sec... May-ann?
May-hemAnnie: You're good. Nobody ever gets that.
bird-eman: Yeah, I'm just good like that. Got a webcam?
May-hemAnnie: Ahyup.
bird-eman [admin] has sent a webcam request.
I click 'Accept' and my webcam tells me it's up and running.
Then Tom (yeah, it is Tom for sure now, I kow that) gets this 'WHOA' look on his face.
bird-eman: If you'll pardon me for saying this...
I smirk and he gives me thins huge, full-blown pearly whites smile. Oh he's just so cute. He tunrs his head down to type. Hunt & peck much?
bird-eman: YOU'RE EFFING HOT.
May-hemAnnie: Pardon me, I need to turn off my webcam and spazz out now.
bird-eman: NOOOO!! Don't gooo... Feel free to spazz, I get it from thousands of fangirls at every show.
May-hemAnnie: Mmhm. And has anyone ever told you that they're not just screaming for you? Sorry to burst your bubble, darling dear, but they yell for your fellow band members as well. <3 Specifically Jeff. He's gorgeous =D
bird-eman: Aww maaaannn!! I thought I was the only one with any fans!
He's grinning his face off.
We talk till the wee hours of the morning, in this case meaning two a.m.
May-hemAnnie: I'm sorry, darling dear, but I have to log off. I have work today.
I stick out my bottom lip and draw an imaginary tear line with my finger down the side of my face.
bird-eman: Whoa, it is late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. But me too, I have a show later.
May-hemAnnie: Chicago! But it's only midnight there...
bird-eman: I meant for you, but you really have done your research! It's so flattering it seems stalkerish... Haha, joking. <3
May-hemAnnie: <3 as well! So, goodnight, same time tomorrow?
bird-eman: Sure. Goodnight, May-ann.
May-hemAnnie: And you too, darling dear Tom.
He blows me a kiss on the webcam, and I hit the 'Print Scrn' key REALLY quickly and return the kiss.
bird-eman [admin] has logged off.
I log off too, and open up a new canvas in Paint. Yeah I'm totally old-school that way. I paste the screenshot into the blank canvas and crop out everything but Tom Falcone blowing me- ME!!- a kiss, save it, and set it as my background.
I have to say, he's pretty much totally wicked awesome.
I check my e-mail again, to see if someone's sent me anything in the last oh-three-hours-or-so. There's a brand-new, minute old message from Tom.
To: mayhem_annie@ciwwaf.com
Sender: tfalc_ciwwaf@hotmail.com
Subj: my cell number
Body: Call me later, I want to hear your voice. <3 Noon, for you.
Then he has his number.
I scream, probably waking up everyone in my apartment complex. I grab my cell phone and fumble with it, and eventually get his number in there. I e-mail the picture of him blowing a kiss to my cell, and set it as the picture I.D.
And another fun-flled day is over with, so I finally go to sleep- three hours later than I had originnally anticipated, but I hada minor an amazingly awesome setback.
♠ ♠ ♠
Hodayumnnn, this one's long.But this is what happens to me in my wildest dreams. For now, though, I should be content with having seen them in concert last week.
So someone got the question I had in my last a/n right off the bat, and I'm waiting for her to message me back so I can put her in the story. So this one's for Green Eyes; Blue Sky.
I would post a list of everything I'd like to do to those boys, but you wouldn't be able to read it in one sitting, and it'd probably be rated NC-17.
And the logical half of my brain is screaming, "Yeah, NC for 'No comment'!"
Speaking of comments, though...
COMMENTS = RATINGS = LOVE!!