Come out, come out, wherever you are...
On the way home from replacing our faulty TV remote control (hooray, no more squeezing it until our thumbs go numb), I announced to Chris that I needed more secret admirers.
Isn't VD the time for your secret stalkers and those who repress their hidden urges for your body parts to come forth and bashfully admit -- through anonymous gifts (no burning bags of dog poo, please) -- they care?
Today... nothing. Well, maybe I got love from TD Canada Trust who called to remind me my bill payment was overdue.
Have decided that my secret admirers -- if they actually exist -- are too secret.
Isn't VD the time for your secret stalkers and those who repress their hidden urges for your body parts to come forth and bashfully admit -- through anonymous gifts (no burning bags of dog poo, please) -- they care?
Today... nothing. Well, maybe I got love from TD Canada Trust who called to remind me my bill payment was overdue.
Have decided that my secret admirers -- if they actually exist -- are too secret.
posted by /hg | 6:48 p.m.
3 Comments:
Aw. TD totally loooooves you.
I've wanted a secret admirer since I was ten and I still haven't gotten one. It's not fair!
What about AB's bloated nemesis?
Oh, wait. That's non-secret creepy, drooling-ness. *shudder*
I'm sure you have several... but like mine, (although suspect you have many more) they're a little too subtle about it.
Damn those clever little stalkers.
Ha! Somehow, I don't think I can count one night of leering as a secret admirer, even if I was into that kind of thing.
Wherever our sly little admirers are, I do hope that they're doing something more than creepy leering.
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