Did you ever wish you could melt panties as fast as Wisconsin singer/songwriter Justin Vernon, AKA the frontman of the angsty folk group Bon Iver? Well I certainly have. As in, it’s how I’ve spent every single minute of every single day since I first heard “Skinny Love” three years ago and something like an orgasm happened inside of my heart. Dude can emote. Exhibit A: he recorded the band’s first album — a nine song ode to a former love called For Emma, Forever Ago — locked away in a cabin in rural Wisconsin.
Apparently I’m not the only one who’s been experiencing Bon Iver as religion over that span of time, because in the past week or so, this surfaced: that’s right, Boniverotica. A place (in the form of a Tumblr) where forlorn, flannel-clad lovers can go to … I don’t know exactly. Weep? Find solidarity? Empathize? Seek inspiration? OK, fine: It’s f***ing hilarious.
Those who are familiar with the man/myth/poet/lumberjack/naturalist that is Justin Vernon might need to fasten their safety belts, because they’re liable to ROFL all over the place.
Here are three of our favorite entries:
“Bon Iver wanted to show me that it is okay to cry when you are sad. He squeezed his eyes shut and his face was marked by sorrow. Moments later, his eyes were wet. He shuddered. ‘Bon Iver,’ I said, and placed a hand on his bare chest to calm him, ‘what made you so suddenly sad?’
He choked and wiped his eyes. ‘Deforestation,’ he whispered.”
“Today at the flea market, Bon Iver found a box of old hats. He bought them all. ‘I couldn’t decide which one felt most like home,’ he said.”
“Bon Iver must have known I would wear his workshirts to bed while he was away. He left me gifts in the breast pocket of each — a tiny shell, a dried flower, a pinecone.”