So it's official.
I have a GBF now. My gay best friend, James, is a fabulous vegan afficianado, chick flick lover and most importantly the King of Opinions. He's hilariously judgy in the sweetest of ways. I swear I sit and I listen and I learn oh-so-much about the intricate mind of a man on a mission to make the world a more visually stimulating place.
I've started to refer to his moments of judgy-ness as "The Rules of James," but he refers to them as "How Not to Repel Your Significant Other" My name is shorter so I'll stick with it.
Rule numero uno: You can't have long hair on your toes. If you do James will throw up in his mouth a tiny bit.
"The hairs should not go past the knuckle when you curl your toes. It's like a mustache that goes over your lips...BLECH! Trim that ish!"
This is noted, Friend (checking my own toes...)
Why I dig my GBF! He satisfies all things "Arthur Stewart" (Man version of Martha Stewart) that I need in my life. He's THE bee's knees of decorators. I'm on a personal mission to get his home featured on Apartment Therapy! Also trying to push him to finish a vegan cookbook he's been working on for awhile. His recipes are delicious and filling...The first time Mark and I ever went over for dinner was hilarious. Mark complained that vegan food wouldn't fill him up. He shut his mouth and chewed all nice like though once trying James' "Shrimp" Fried Rice dish and coleslaw side. Oh my GOD was it a food gasm!
We try to get together weekly and watch something/cook something together. Last week we watched GBF (fitting) which was actually well written and hilarious. It went to straight to DVD (which is usually NEVER a good sign, but this one was unwarranted, yo.) I recommend it. I secretly believe James wrote it so I'm supporting his creative endeavors.
It's what nice SBFs do... (He's dubbed me his sassy black friend. It was only right that I picked up a label, too.)