Talk to me.

I'm feelin' all warm and gooey inside, boys and girls. It's partly because ChickyBabe and Indiana are writing posts waaaaaay hotter than the stuff they show on Skin-emax. I know I'm a chick and I'm their target audience... But no. 'Fraid not. Like did anyone see the one with the blind pianist? What. the. hell. Honestly, I'd rather just watch Family Business. Or read blogs, apparently.

And the other part of my gooeyness? My iPod + endorphins. So while I'm on a runner's high, I'm going to share with you the post I ponder every time I run.

(drumroll please)

Aural Stimulation.

Oh yes. The way to my heart is through my ears. Words, songs, whispers, secrets, suggestions, commands, laughs, nicknames, voicemails... There's a reason half my posts have references to voices.

The male voice does it for me. Specifically, the well-modulated, clearly-articulated, sometimes scratchy, usually teasing, God-I-love-it-when-you-make-your-voice-low-like-that, and-please-talk-slowly-because-it-indicates-patience-and-control, and-damn-it's-hot-when-I-can-hear-that-you're-about-to-laugh-knowingly, male voice. Purrrrrrrrr.

(pause for a glass of ice water)

Of course, it's even better if all of that can be conveyed while singing. I can't tell you the number of times I've listened and re-listened to Gordan Gano declaring "I want you to hold me / I want your arms around me..." So should I do it now? Because I'm ready over here.

And while we're on the subject of arms, Evan Dando: yes, you can come into my arms. Anytime. I guarantee you won't be alone.

Gavin Rossdale, don't let the days go by. Come and sing to me.

Thom Yorke, you are special. Let me show you how much. I will let you have control, I promise.

Scott Weiland, you can beg for me any day. Any day. Hell, I'd beg for you.

Michael Hutchence? Live for a thousand years? I see that didn't work out too well for you. But when you belt it out like that, I absolutely believe that we could fly.

And Peter Ham: I hereby posthumously assure you that I indeed want to give it all every time you declare you would give it to me. Every. time.

(deep sigh)

I guess I'm just an aural kinda girl.
It's a good thing you all don't have my phone number.