What You Won't Do for Love, Chapter 4 By JoshBabe joshbabe22@hotmail.com
This work contains depictions of homosexuality. If that is illegal in your jurisdiction, please, do not continue reading this.
This work is copyright (c) 2001 by JoshBabe. You may download and keep an unlimited number of copies for personal use, but this work may not be used under any circumstances without the prior consent of the author with the exception of a personal copy. Aesthetic changes (font size, font face, whitespace) do not constitute a change that requires the author's permission; any non-whitespace changes to the actual text of the story require prior permission.
WHAT YOU WON'T DO FOR LOVE, CHAPTER FOUR
I apologize to those of you who are tired of hearing me recap, but I don't want to make you reread previous chapters every time there's a new one.
So, we were off to Jessica's party, after an interesting evening of soul-searching and discussion between Alex and myself. We met at a park, and talked some, and talked about when we first found out we were attracted to guys.
Then, Alex came back to my house, where we were going to spend the night. We ended up falling asleep on my living room floor, and talked about a whole slew of things, from sex to relationships, and, of course, Alex's parents, who had issues with teen sex (understandably) and with homosexuality. Everyone knows how I feel on the latter, of course. He explained what had happened to him when he first read "The City and the Pillar". I introduced him to Mom, who managed to embarrass me again by reminding me of where she kept condoms. Thanks, Mom. When she woke us up for good at 1:00, she told us that Jessica was having a party, so we both threw ourselves into preparation, and I went on a shopping trip, saw some friends, and got to play shallow all afternoon. I bought some new clothes to look especially good for Alex. When he came to pick me up, I was blown away by his excellent taste. I impressed him, too. My mom wouldn't let him drive the BMW, so I drove, even though I didn't much want to.
This was the big day, of course. Jessica's parties were major stuff, socially speaking. I was driving a little over the speed limit, because I didn't want to be late, and no one ever comes late to a party at her house, but I wasn't nervous because I was really going the speed of traffic. Anyway, I had Alex with me, which seemed to be calming me down nicely, and I had the radio on, playing nicely.
When I got to Jessica's, we were exactly on time, and parked in front of her palatial house. Remember when I said her dad was a foreign diplomat from France? Well, he's paid awfully well, because they had this massive house up in the West Hills, way outside of Forestdale. She transferred to Kennedy from West Portland High, our major competitor school, because of our theater department. Until Forestdale officially became part of Portland, it was the only high school on the west side of the river, hence the name. Anyway. It was a gorgeous place, all white stucco and windows. They had an incredible view, and it was set back from the road, with a beautiful garden in the front. Truly incredible.
I parked the car in front, and Jessica came out to greet us. "Josh!" she cried, and I gave her a hug. "How are you?"
Like usual, I just shrugged. "Pretty well, thanks."
Then she moved on, to Alex. "Hi, Alex!" she breathed, fluttering her eyelids. "How are you?"
He grinned. "Great, thanks. I really appreciate your inviting me today, Jessica... that says a lot about you."
"I couldn't exactly exclude a good friend's new love interest from a social event, now, could I?"
God, she knew how to make me blush. "Jessica!" I cried.
She beamed back at us. "Did I say something wrong?" Over her shoulder, she turned her head and looked, hair swishing against the sleeves of her green shirt, on which she had magnanimously only done one button. Below that were a pair of black pants. "George! Could you come out here and show Josh and Alex in? I've still got one more guest to greet." She turned back to us. "You look wonderful, Josh," she said, with a sly smile and a little twinkle in her dark black eyes.
I tried to look down on her, condescendingly, but failed abysmally. We just both laughed. "Thanks, Jessica. I happen to like this outfit."
"Does it matter to you? Do YOU like it, Alex?"
"Jessica!" I cried, not wanting to deal with this.
She was unrepentant. God, she could be like Mom sometimes, I swear. "Sorry."
George, her butler, I guess, for lack of a better term, came out to greet us. "Hello," he said, a crisp, no-nonsense British accent coming at us. I knew better than to fall for it -- he was French, like everyone in this house -- but I'd have to tell Alex when it wouldn't be so embarrassing. "Miss Jessica sent me to show you in, gentlemen."
I had to stifle a laugh at the uniform she'd made him wear today -- usually, he was fairly casual, in khakis and a polo shirt. Her family tended to be under- dressed or over-dressed, and she'd made poor George lean toward the latter this time around, wearing his white dress uniform. So, I presumed, would be her father.
I followed him, though, and Alex looked at me quizzically, so I just waved him along. We got a quick tour of the house, for Alex's benefit -- George, of course, recognized me -- and then were shown into the living room, where, lounging with sodas in high-balls were Autumn, Michael, Ira, Meredith, and three of Jessica's good friends. I waved, and Autumn and Meredith got up immediately to come over and give me a hug.
Alex, unfortunately, didn't know anyone there, so I introduced him to all seven of the others. He gave them all a nice handshake -- I swear, it was uncanny, it was like watching a politician; I know, I've spent enough time around them. He made a conscious effort to remember all of their names, and I knew he was being sincere. That really impressed me.
I gave him some little doe eyes, just for him, of course. I cleared my throat and went to go look for Jessica, to talk to her. She had just finished saying hello to the last arrival, whose name I've since forgotten -- she was new -- and I went up to her and asked her, "Do they know about Alex and me yet?"
She looked puzzled. "Huh?"
"Do your guests know about us?"
I saw understanding flash in her eyes, but she still looked a little stupefied. "No... do you want them to, Josh? Why do you ask?"
I let myself grin a little. "Well, not really, but I don't want to have to worry about slipping up and holding his hand or anything. I guess I could simply not say anything, and if I slip up, well, they'll know, won't they?"
"Or Meredith could tell them, of course, and she very well may yet," she added helpfully.
Oh, God. Meredith. I hope she doesn't threat to cut anyone's balls off this time. Or, for that matter, try coming on to one of the girls. She did that at one of Jessica's parties, and ended up seriously hurting a couple of people's feelings. I felt really badly for her.
"OK," I said to her, "we'll try Sublime Plan #1."
"Sublime?"
Oh, geez... I forgot. No one else seems to be interested in vocab. "Means 'cool', kind of... more like 'inspiring' or 'uplifting'."
"This plan is?"
I rolled my eyes. "No, I was being mildly facetious. Sorry."
She punched me in the arm. "Ow!" I exclaimed playfully, rubbing the spot where she'd hit me. "What the hell was that for?"
"I thought it would be fun."
"Sublime, right?"
She laughed and gave me a big hug. "Right. Let's go in and face everyone, shall we? Maybe you should forget being subtle, and just sit down on Alex's lap. It would be cute, and I'm sure he'd love it."
I blushed furiously, like I think she knew I would. But, of course, she continued, disregarding my embarrassment (and, although she didn't notice, partly visible excitement), "And then he could give you a little kiss, and then you could order each other drinks. It would be really sweet, like something out of the movies."
"Except that when gay men kiss in movies, it gets rated R. At best. Straight people can kiss in a movie, but oh, no, homosexuality is wrong."
We both laughed. "I'm European, so I'm allowed to think it's sweet..."
"Aren't the French bothered by Americans, though? It should be disgusting, not because we're men but because we're not French."
She shrugged. "I've lived here a long time, Josh. A lot of my life. I've never lived in France, anyway. How do you think I got this name? My parents were living in New York. Mom has since moved to Rome, and they're semi-formally separated, but Dad is working for the local trade office. He complains of having been exiled. I think it's wonderful. I hated New York."
Well, that explained a lot. I never did remember what her dad did. "Is he planning on moving back to France?"
"He hated France. Why do you think he accepted an overseas position? He originally wanted Lisbon, actually, or London -- Portugal and England were always his favorites."
We were in the hallway at this point, which didn't really make a difference because the walk from her front door to the living room was ludicrous. It was hidden away, for all practical purposes, although it was more like a lounge than anything else. The proper living room, in the front of house, was fully furnished, but I don't think I've ever seen anyone sit in the furniture there. It's very stiff-looking. She says it's real furniture from the time of Louis XV, that's been in her father's family a long time.
When Alex heard our voices, he came over and gave me a long kiss, in a little corner alcove. Oh, my God, it was unbelievable. I swear, his kisses got better every hour. It was almost impossible to break it off, and every time I tried, we'd start back up again. I think we spent five minutes in that little alcove.
Finally, I pushed his head away from me. "Alex, we really need to go back in," I told him, while he ran his fingers down my sweater. He liked it, as we established earlier. I had my hands in his hair, and I loved the texture of it... it smelled nice, and wasn't at all dry, even though it was pretty coarse. I guess that was a nice match, I had really super-fine hair.
He just smiled at me, and gave me one last kiss. That wasted another minute or so. "OK, let's go," he said, holding my hand, and I didn't even realize that we were doing it until we walked into the room and had sat down on the couch. Actually, that's not fair. I was so dense, it took someone asking, "Are you two, like, together?"
It was one of Jessica's friends. I can never keep them straight, anyway; it was a miracle I managed to introduce Alex successfully to all of them. There were at least twelve of them, who looked and acted interchangeably. They loved Jessica because they were all desperate to be thought like they were 'super-high society', you know, and she was indeed the very emblem of that. A drama queen, too, although an unusually normal Thespian. She loved theater. Who knew how she'd met them? Some of them were from West Portland, and some from Kennedy, and a couple from St. Andrew's. She had, I think, two from Kennedy, and one from WP and St. Andrew's, that night. Like I said, I have no idea, really, how I can keep them straight, except that they all seemed to be named Heather, Alexandra or Elizabeth. Every single one. I swear. How they keep themselves straight, I don't know, either. They even DRESSED alike!
Alex responded for me, because I guess I was totally embarrassed and practically stammering. "Yes, we are," he said, totally straight-faced. He put a hand on top of mine. "Do you have a problem with it?"
"No, of course not," she said, coolly. Sometimes, you know, when people say that, they don't mean it... they're very flustered, but don't want to be thought bigoted. (This is metropolitan Oregon, of course, the "hotbed of liberalism" that conservatives always complain about.) She really did mean it. I could tell, by the way she looked us straight in the eyes, and didn't get flustered or anything. "Why would there be?"
"I dunno," I said, managing to make my valuable contribution to the conversation.
She smiled at us. "As a matter of fact, you make a wonderfully cute couple. I was thinking to myself earlier, what a shame that Alex doesn't have anyone with him, but he does. It's nice. Except I guess I get cut out of the running..."
We laughed with her. Alex looked at me and said, "You're not going to give her a chance, are you? I'm going to be terribly hurt if you do, babe."
So I just shrugged it off, smiled, and gave him a kiss. "Answer your question?"
Ira butted in at that point, "OK, guys, enough with the sickening-sweet flirty stage. You can do that on your own time. I'm here to have fun."
"But Ira!" I objected, a mischievous grin flashing across my face. "You don't think kissing me is fun? Wanna try?"
He flustered, but Meredith looked at him squarely. "Better not say anything, Ira... I would hate to see you lose those pretty little testicles of yours."
I gasped. "Meredith! Geez! You'd think he'd said something terrible! You're just being hyper-sensitive, is all." I just reclined back in the nice, soft couch, which was, like much of the house, chosen for maximum dramatic effect. I loved her place more than mine -- I'm not that partial, personally, to old farmhouses, even inasmuch as mine is Home, with a capital H.
Well, I know this sounds like a terribly interesting party to you, but after all, no one said parties are fun the entire time, although Ira's was. Jessica went over to her stereo and put on some music -- luckily for me, she wasn't into any of that pop crap, you know, no Christina Aguilera or Backstreet Boys. Just old-fashioned rock. Like all of us. (Well, except for the Dozen Identical Girls, who probably only listened to whatever was on Jessica's radio the last time they were at her house. I swear, they worship her.)
Then, we sat around and talked for a long time. I would love to detail the entire conversation for you, but I don't think I could. Keep in mind, it was some time ago, you know? I could probably give you a general idea, but it wouldn't be terribly coherent. Conversations usually aren't.
Wow. That was philosophical. But I'm digressing.
Alex and I spent some time, cuddling, while we were watching the movie, you know, and that was fun. Oh, whoops, forgot to tell you. Details. We watched a movie. It was "Varsity Blues", which is fun just because it has two unbelievably cute protagonists -- Paul Walker as "Lance", and James van der Beek as "Mox" -- crammed onto one TV screen. And, of course, Jessica had an HDTV, which runs at nearly DVD aspect ratio, which means that we had no horizontal clipping or vertical stretching.
Anyway, Alex and I spent all the time discussing how much fun it would be to enjoy the company of both Lance and Mox at once, quietly, of course, since the four interchangeable girls were raptly watching the movie. Jessica was sprawled back on the couch, feet up, with her arm around Ira. The two of them were close, and had dated at one point -- that had always struck me as odd. Meredith was, predictably, enjoying watching everyone else, like the old joke-job description about the psychologist: Enjoys watching everyone else when a beautiful girl walks into a room.
The movie is unbelievably, ludicrously shallow at some points, and shows unexpected depth at others. It's typical, I suspect, of a teen movie, but I expect better quality cinema than that. I'm sorry, but the pinnacle of our cinema is either "American Pie" or "Saving Private Ryan"? Give me a break. People who take surveys have no culture. Period.
Things got interesting when we actually got around to going to bed, about 1:00. We had all brought sleeping bags, of course. That was requisite. While we were all getting ready, brushing our teeth and the like -- we'd eaten a lot of the excellent food that George's wife, Nicole, prepared for us -- Meredith sidled up next to me and whispered in my ear, "You ought to hook up your sleeping bag with Alex's, man."
"Meredith!" I whispered back fiercely, shocked. "There are other people in that room!"
She grinned mischeviously. "Privacy could probably be arranged, at request. I bet Jessica would be willing."
I blushed, turning red as the nearest turnip patch. "My God! Stop it!"
"You look like you like the suggestion," she grinned at me, tousling my hair. Damn, I liked that hairdo, and now she was going to ruin it. Only two people ever mess with my hair, my grandmother Heilig and Meredith.
I grinned at her, a little sheepishly. "OK, so maybe I do. It would probably be inappropriate."
"Inappropriate? Who said that? We'd all cheer you all on. New couples need lots of time together," she said, returning my grin with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Why did that keep coming back to haunt me? "And you are, after all. You're much cuter, as a couple, than you are with Julie. Break up with her."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, that would be fun."
"She's not right for you anyway. You fit like a little part of a jigsaw puzzle with Alex, you know -- where you stick out, he juts in, and it just kind of fits together."
I laughed, and didn't hesitate to point out the double entendre. She blushed. "I really didn't mean it that way, damn it!" she cried, loudly.
Everyone looked over at us. We'd been whispering before that, after all, and then Meredith bursts out with something ridiculous like that.
Alex looked over. "Did she give you any suggestions? I'm always open for them."
I cupped my hands over my ears and ran out of the bathroom, crying, "I'm being besieged!"
I heard him laugh, and then race after me, and caught me in the living room. He tackled me onto the couch, and began to tell me that, for running again, he was going to make me very sorry I'd ever done it.
"How?" I asked, actually afraid. I'd only known him a day. God only knows what he could do.
He leaned in and kissed me, with all the attention he'd ever lavished on me, all at once. Oh, my God, it was absolutely overwhelming. I don't even think I knew that I was still on this planet, while we were kissing. It might have lasted ten seconds, or three hours, or all night. I wouldn't have ever known, except that my basic presumption is that everyone left us alone for a little while and then came and rejoined us. Who knows?
Anyway, he smiled mischievously when he finally broke his kiss with me, and felt in my pants pocket. "Condoms?" he asked, grinning.
"What do you think? This is my mom we're talking about. Of course. I have some in the car, too, and in my dresser, and plus she keeps a stash in the bathroom, I guess in case of emergencies. Jeez, Mom."
He laughed with me. "You're not serious, are you?"
"Well, we don't have any in the bathroom," I said, reluctantly. "But all the rest are true."
He leaned in and kissed me, and then we rolled off the couch, and managed to get our sleeping bags zipped to each other, somehow still kissing all the while. Then, we slid in, slowly, and I felt him pull off my sweater and shirt. I took off the shirt he had tied around his waist, which was really for effect anyway, and then the polo. What skin! It was amazing, to feel the muscles rippling beneath the bronze.
Everything after that, I will leave to your imagination, saying only: I discovered that night that love does come in physical as well as emotional flavors, and I had discovered both. With Alex.
We were laying in the sleeping bags, I naked as the day I was born and Alex in a pair of boxers which might've been mine when everyone else came in. I was glad, at that point, that we had ourselves all covered up.
"Have fun, boys?" Meredith grinned smugly at us.
I was blushing, because I had completely forgotten I wasn't exactly in the most private of locations, but Alex seemed to be fairly secure of himself. "Actually, yes. I'm not telling all the gory details, but the short answer is yes."
Everyone made a kind of 'aww' sound that made me wonder, were they that excited about us hooking up? Like it was such a big deal?
"Do you realize how long we had to stay outside? Geez, it's been almost an hour, kids. Don't you ever get tired? I mean, what happened to all the stuff we learned in health about men needing time to recuperate after ejaculation? If you were girls, I would say, sure, an hour, fine, you'll be tired, but that'll have been fully active time. Two men must get tired awfully quick."
By this time, I was so totally embarrassed that I was hiding in the sleeping bag, covering my ears with my hands, trying not to hear.
Alex just grinned. "What can I say? We're good, is all." He nudged me with his foot. "This one is much better than he gives himself credit for, at any rate. Shit, kid, where did you learn all that stuff?"
This was, of course, just a total bluff, because I had demonstrated almost nothing that I didn't have instinctively. Except I was still a virgin, by the President's own high standards.
Yes, I know Bill Clinton isn't the president anymore, but as I tell this story, I find it hard to set myself forward all this time and pretend that the Usurper really has been inaugurated. It seems like a dream, those halcyon days with human beings with human desires in the White House. Rather than apes and dead people, that is.
OK, though; enough editorializing about George W. and Dick, and on with the story!
I was just totally mortified. "Alex!" I cried. "Is EVERYONE out to get me?"
He unzipped the sleeping bag, just enough that he could get to my head, and stage-whispered, "Of course, baby."
I grabbed at a pair of boxers and my jeans, put them on, and walked off in a flurry. He looked hurt, but then again, he might've been acting. I didn't care. I'd had enough of their stupid needling.
I went into Meredith's room, shut the door and locked it, put on some music and opened up her laptop. She had a G3 Powerbook, a very pretty, sleek Mac, and it was fun to use. That, and since she had an Airport network at home, she had totally wireless Net access everywhere in the house, and a DSL line to boot. My mom would have loved this setup. It was in hibernation, but when it finished loading, I went ahead and gave IE a start.
With a few clicks and a little typing, I managed to get ahold of my iDrive, and I started flicking through my comfort files, if you will; my porn. At that time, although it's since metamorphosed, it was all straight stuff, which was comforting. I'd known I was bi for about 36 hours, and I needed something straight after that experience with Alex. You know how it goes, I'm sure.
I peeled out her headphones and grabbed a movie. I love high-speed networks; the 90MB, 15-minute movie that I had stored was a wonderful comfort at that point. Ohh, yeah.
Then, once I was done amusing myself, I pulled up the Web browser version of InstantMessenger. I'm paranoid about my buddy list, so I don't ever log on using someone else's software. A couple of my friends, from summer camps and the like, were online, so I spent some time talking to them. I even came out to a couple of them... I even told one of my friends about Alex.
After a few minutes -- OK, a lot of minutes -- I heard a sound and saw Julie's name flick up in the AIMExpress window. Oh, God. Julie. Shit. I waited a minute or so, because I knew she'd never see it in time, and then logged off, quickly. Great. Of course, I felt a lot better about myself now.
It was time to go back out and face the party.
I got up, suspended Jessica's G3, cut the lights off and poked my head out her door. Coast was clear. I walked back to the living room, and saw some evil- looking glares poking out at me.
"What the fuck is your problem?" Jessica shot at me, her eyes glaring. "So sensitive, you have to go and hide from us? Your friends?"
I muttered, "With friends like these, who needs enemies?"
Alex looked like he'd been hit. He visibly recoiled. In retrospect, my heart breaks for the emotional damage I'd done him, twice in 24 hours, which I never even noticed while I was doing it.
Meredith walked up to me, laid a finger on my forehead, and pressed. Where did she learn to do that? It hurt like hell. "Josh, we were happy for you. Damn happy for you. How do you return that? You get sensitive; you run off and hide from us. That hurt, man. A lot." She pressed harder. "I don't know whose team you're on, but here, you have the perfect man, and you can't even deal with it."
Alex just stared at me, looking like he was in pain. His eyes were practically brimming with tears. Finally, he broke down and started sobbing.
Was this for real? What did I do that was so wrong? I walked over and put my arm around Alex. He shook me off, and pretty abruptly at that.
"Just get away from me, bitch," he cried out, finally, and went back to sobbing. Meredith and Jessica just sat there, cradling him.
Jessica turned to me. "Get out of my sight."
I ran from the room, and stumbled on the steps, and suddenly went black...
"Josh! Wake up!" I felt someone's hand on my shoulder. My eyes were bleary, and I was sweaty all over. "Wake up, bud!"
I blinked a couple of times, and my eyes slowly came into focus. I coughed, and turned my head around to look at a crowd of concerned-looking people. I was sprawled on the floor somewhere, and everyone else was standing around me, it would seem.
"Where am I?"
Someone said -- I was still having difficulty focusing -- "Jessica's room. We, uhh, found you lying here. Did you, like, faint or something?"
I blinked. What happened?
"You, like, ran away when Alex was teasing you, and we came up to check in on you and you were, like, laying here in front of Jessica's desk, man."
OK, so the fight never happened. Did I have a concussion from my fall or something? Christ, I'm lucky I didn't die.
Suddenly, rushing into the room came George and Jessica's father, Michel. "Qu'est-ce qu'a passe?" her father asked Jessica quietly.
"Father, something happened... we think he might have fainted or something. We found him here, I guess sleeping."
"And how? I would hate to think that something untoward had happened."
"Sounds like we need to get him to the hospital, pere. Ne pouvons pas l'aider."
"Bien, ma chere," her father responded smoothly.
She turned back to us. "OK, guys. We need to get Josh to the hospital... he needs to be checked out. Someone call Susan, and we, umm, should get moving."
Christ. Hospital? Fuck. What was the matter?
In the background, I could hear someone calling my mother, and George and Michel walked off, talking. I got the general impression, following their conversation -- funny thing; before, I never understood a lick of French -- that George was going to get the car, and we were going to go to the hospital, and my mom would meet us there.
Soon enough, they carried me, still lying down, really, into her father's limo, assigned to him by his office. Everyone else got in, and we went off to Oregon Health Sciences University, one of those really neat hospitals. It wasn't far from her house, and at 2 A.M. that was a great choice. I felt a hand on my forehead, and I looked up and saw my blonde love-of- the-day looking down over me, concernedly. "You'll be OK," he whispered, and gave me a kiss on the forehead. "You know how I know?"
"How?" I asked, still a little dry-throated. I was being terse, because it hurt to talk.
He shrugged. "Because you look like you're OK already, babe. I have something in mind." He gave my thigh a little rub. Jesus, did this babe ever think about anything else? STOP GETTING EXCITED! He'll notice!
"OK, break it up, you two," Meredith said, laughing, and elbowing Alex. "We need to keep this one healthy, and I'm sure doctors frown on sex right after concussions. 'Sides, we are in a public place."
Jessica looked warningly at Meredith. "Remember how the teasing that made Josh run away started?"
She was silent. Damn, Jessica was good sometimes. I didn't want to say anything, but if I had been in good health like the other fourteen people in the limo, I would have applauded.
"OK, we're here," someone said, and the door opened and my mom rushed in.
"Are you OK, sweetie?"
"Yeah, Mom," I croaked, and laid back on the couch. Someone brought a stretcher to come and get me. I sort of dozed off into sleep, I'm told, at that point.
COMMENTS FROM THE AUTHOR
Hey, guys. For those of you who actually do speak French, I apologize for what I've done. Je ne parle pas bien le francais, parce que n'ai etudie la langue dans un classe. Je la ai etudie d'un livre, et ils ne se pouvent aider d'etudier bien une langue.
For those of you who don't speak French, I made sure I used almost no French, except for names and that sort of thing. (Except for the paragraph above, I guess.) That's a little brain exercise for you.
I hope I'm not going to get too many flames about my comments about Bill Clinton, George W. Bush and Dick Cheney. Sometimes, I have to fight the urge to editorialize; other times, I just give in and do it anyhow. That was one of those times.
Thank you guys for all your comments. I haven't gotten a lot -- I think I've gotten six or seven, maybe as many as ten -- but what I have gotten has been tremendously valuable. Besides, hey, whose ego doesn't need boosting at some point? I just envy those guys who post their stories in the gay section, and get a million messages in their mailbox. That must be flattering.
That's a hint; did you all hear me?
I may or may not put up my own website. It'll be in Josh's name too, so you can find it... I could even post fan mail and flames! That would be fun! (Or not.)
Keep sending the mail to joshbabe22@hotmail.com. As usual, flames go to /dev/null. Before I read them.