Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Davy Jones

When I was 8, I was convinced that I was going to marry Davy Jones.

I used to practice kissing on car windows for the hope that we would one day meet. Sadly, I discovered he was already married. No bother, I still loved him and I knew through telepathic transmission that somehow he knew that. I understood we would never be together in a physical way, but I was a kid, and he was old enough to be my father and I guess that meant I should just stick to buying Monkees cassettes, which I did, rather faithfully. I don't think I ever got past my first crush, and most likely he subconsciously planted my love for British comedies, boys named David and absurdest humor.

Thanks, Davy! You'll be missed!

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