"jonathan taylor thomas is here," andrew says as he comes back to our table. i’d heard about people seeing him out before around our neighborhood, always alone, and now there he was on the other side of the bar on a stool by himself. i’d never been into him when i was younger, but talking to him seemed to be too weird of an opportunity to miss out on, so i walk to the bar, order a drink and sit next to him. he’s tiny, permanently stunted at his 1995 size, much shorter than me, and his face looks only barely familiar. his childhood cuteness seems to have gone horribly wrong with age.  this band of hippies is playing some song, and he starts talking to me as we watch them play.  "what song is this? i know it but i can’t think of the name? " i say. "its that katy perry song," young simba from the lion king answers. his voice sounds like hes been drinking helium instead of beer. we make the smallest of small talk, but i have so many questions. like why are you alone? surely you have to have some friends? home improvement groupies? jtt as a friend has to have some novelty value. and what did you think of brad’s hair when he had it in the bizarre half ponytail? were you weirded out when mark grew up and became goth? did you jack off thinking about heidi the tool time girl? instead we laugh about the band and he leaves to go to the bathroom, but is taking forever so i get bored and walk back to my friends and we leave because the bar is closing. randy taylor is on the street smoking alone. "bye," i tell him, and he looks awkward and scared of us, and runs away back into the bar. his whole demeanor was very odd and he seemed kind of confused and lost, but hopefully its nothing a talk with wilson won’t straighten out. 

"jonathan taylor thomas is here," andrew says as he comes back to our table. i’d heard about people seeing him out before around our neighborhood, always alone, and now there he was on the other side of the bar on a stool by himself. i’d never been into him when i was younger, but talking to him seemed to be too weird of an opportunity to miss out on, so i walk to the bar, order a drink and sit next to him. he’s tiny, permanently stunted at his 1995 size, much shorter than me, and his face looks only barely familiar. his childhood cuteness seems to have gone horribly wrong with age.  this band of hippies is playing some song, and he starts talking to me as we watch them play.  "what song is this? i know it but i can’t think of the name? " i say. "its that katy perry song," young simba from the lion king answers. his voice sounds like hes been drinking helium instead of beer. we make the smallest of small talk, but i have so many questions. like why are you alone? surely you have to have some friends? home improvement groupies? jtt as a friend has to have some novelty value. and what did you think of brad’s hair when he had it in the bizarre half ponytail? were you weirded out when mark grew up and became goth? did you jack off thinking about heidi the tool time girl? instead we laugh about the band and he leaves to go to the bathroom, but is taking forever so i get bored and walk back to my friends and we leave because the bar is closing. randy taylor is on the street smoking alone. "bye," i tell him, and he looks awkward and scared of us, and runs away back into the bar. his whole demeanor was very odd and he seemed kind of confused and lost, but hopefully its nothing a talk with wilson won’t straighten out. 

  1. mrsdavidspade reblogged this from bgebs
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  4. kmnml said: I’ve only gotten three lines into this story and I’m pretty much shaking with excitement.
  5. leavethedishes reblogged this from bgebs and added:
    Because I just told my girlfriend that JTT is back (and to go stare at her Tiger Beat), and then this shows up on the...
  6. joaniepepperoni said: oh my GOD
  7. samanthajoleal said: this is amazing
  8. bgebs posted this