Domesticait

whydoihaveablog:

How disappointed were you when you first heard Ray LaMontagne’s speaking voice?

I don’t know much about his music, but I do know that the first time I heard him singing I fucking died. You know how important voices are to me. I love voices. I go nuts for voices. I don’t know why, but I do.

And so when I hear him sing I picture a life where we live together and he shares his flannel shirts with me and maybe we have a pet fox, or some sort of pet wildlife creature that we saved, and we live in a cabin in the middle of nowhere in Wyoming and he just sings me songs on guitar while I sit by a fireplace. That’s what his singing voice does to me.

And then you hear him talk and he has just an average-ass speaking voice and those dreams fade away and you realize that somedays he probably smells bad, and maybe he doesn’t clean his pee off the toilet seat, maybe he just swipes crumbs from the counter onto the floor instead of in his hand to put in the trash which would be FINE if we had a Cocker Spaniel who would gladly gobble them up, Ray, but we don’t, we’re rehabiliting a red fox and they don’t LIKE toast and I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU FORGOT IT WAS TRASH DAY AGAIN, RAY. I reminded you last night!