Eric needs…a hug. No shit.
Eric wants… Hysung’s phone number. I don’t even know her, but what the hell.
Eric loves…Lisa. Don’t know her either, plus she violates my “No-Names-That-End-In-A” rule
Eric hates…shots. No, I don’t.
Eric believes… “If I wrote the best play/I won’t get any say/No-one would listen/No-one would hear true music.” Okay, off to cut myself.
Eric wishes…you a good year from El Quemao. Wow, it’s really, really nice here.
Eric sleeps…on Flickr. Hey, I was tired. Not the most inopportune time that I’ve fallen asleep.
Eric smells…the best. It’s the hot maidens in my Irish Spring body wash.
Eric eats…out. Wow, this is amazing.
Eric tastes…our RougeGain. I don’t think so, I checked the page and that shit looks gross.
Eric realizes…that he’s got one of Batu’s pajama tops on, one of the inside-out ones. Honest, Lisa, Hysung, it’s not what it looks like!
Your Tiny Hand Is Frozen
4 hours ago