I've decided I want John Deacon's boots. The heels/boots/whatever he wore in Japan. I want them. I want them as badly as Robin Zander wants me to want him. Yes, I'm willing to shine my shoes and put on a new shirt and come home early from work but I don't give a shit if they say the love me, I just want to shove them on my feet.
That was terrible.
What is wrong with me.
That's not how you reference songs, Taylor.
Anyway, it would be nice if tomorrow I did something other than sit around Internet shopping for boots that look like the ones the bassist for Queen wore. But what can ya do.
I don't know what else to write so I'm going to leave it as this sad scrap of journal real estate right here.
I'm boot crazy.
I can't walk in boots. I can't walk in flats. It was a miracle when I figured out how not to trip in sneakers.