I’m so gay for Wilco, I’m listening to The Autumn Defense right now.

I’m so gay for Wilco, I traveled to Berkeley CA last August to watch them play the Greek.

I’m so gay for Wilco, I read Greg Kot’s book — from start to finish.

I’m so gay for Wilco, I went out and bought their book, and Sam Jones’s documentary “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart”, as well as Tweedy’s solo DVD, “Sunken Treasure”…and his book of poetry.

I’m so gay for Wilco, I almost shelled out 100 bucks for a minty copy of Summerteeth on eBay a few months ago. And I regret not doing it now.

I’m so gay for Wilco, I bought Gia Paloma a T-shirt from the Los Angeles show, which was just a few days after the Berkeley show.

I’m so gay for Wilco, I complained about how bad the LA show was, in comparison to their Berkeley gig.

I’m so gay for Wilco, I’m considering going back to the Bay area in August to see them again…and pay the $250 (per head) tickets for the VIP area, just so I can sit closer to them.

I’m so gay for Wilco, I’d blow Jeff Tweedy — but only after he bought me at least 3 pints of Blue Moon Ale and signed my Wilco records, as well as my Uncle Tupelo records. And his poetry book. But even then, I wouldn’t swallow. Even though I read poetry.

I’m so gay for Wilco, I was up until 4.30am last night, Googling those motherfuckers, and in addition to a bootleg stream I found from a great ’95 show recorded in a tiny LA radio station, I found a chart outlining the Wilco crew and their involvement in the band…and posted it here.

But I’m not so gay for Wilco that I’d actually create a chart like the one I just posted.