I do know the feeling, but then I take a step back, y'know, get back in touch with myself, stop sleeping with my adoring fans three at a time and snorting cocaine from the stomach of an ex-Spice Girl, and realise that I was crazy, and that the work must continue.
Bah, methinks you have merely confused 'lecherous' with 'adorable' in that head of yours. That'll be my cover story, anyway, until a better one comes along, and I think it'll stand up to at least a little scrutiny in the meantime.
I'd probably be in too much shock to take it in any spirit at all. I'm not quite sure how you'd manage it.
But, sure, totally a romantic gesture. As is standing on the street hollering 'show us yer tits, [insert name here], press 'em right up againt the window, woo, yeah.' It's a classy area, what can I say?
I've done it. I've removed everything once. Now, I wish it was still here so I could see that part of myself. It's like I removed some part of my memory and feeling.
Housing prices are sure to skyrocket as word gets out about the classiness you've just mentioned.
And ya can't fault 'em on directness, you have to give them that. None of this 'roses and dinner-style subterfuge' fiasco so popular with the trendy set.
(also, in a rare moment of seriousness, I totally agree with Dan. I deleted two years of solid blog, myself, and feel very much the same as he on the matter.)
The roses, well not roses but some sort of nice flowers would be sweet. As would flowery language - applied correctly. Euphemism can be rather a lot of fun. Still, entirely academic as it is not me being wooed but my charming, absofuckinglutely charming, neighbours.
I doubt I could delete, Dan [and Martin]. Too much like losing a part of myself and I am something of a packrat when it comes to me :p
I also, as a partially robotic being, enjoy your continued presence on a node of this interlinked computational network, meat being, and second the motion of the aforementioned flesh-bag self-identifying as "Dan".
That is the word verification that appears on my screen right now, and the noise I have made several times while reading the comments on this post. If I were gay, I would have a crush on Mr. Kingsley.
Who needs to be gay? It's okay to crush on peoples of all genders. Though, seriously, if you wanted to do naughty things to/with him that would make you a tiny bit gay, Dan. Martin's a cute little button, I totally have a cute little button crush on him.
Oh, Dan, you know I'd hit that any time, any place.
Come to think of it, you, too, Nails. Just as soon as I get out of this Astro Boy costume.
Dale, it's all a matter of timing. You cannot rush the rock-thrower. The planets have to be aligned, the tea leaves checked, the entrails investigated.
For the layman: I'LL THROW IT WHEN I'M GOOD AN' READY, YA PUSHY BOURGEOIS BASTARD. Sheesh, some people.
41 comments:
I know nails, I know.
And I'm sure Mark wouldn't be upset by the fact that you are love with in.
(snigger)
It would be so cute to be in love with Mark. I can just imagine his look of horror...
Nice to see you back commenting, Ross. Isn't it time you updated all your adoring fans...?
I think its crossed my mind.
Sometimes it just seems so stupid, doesn't it?
I do know the feeling, but then I take a step back, y'know, get back in touch with myself, stop sleeping with my adoring fans three at a time and snorting cocaine from the stomach of an ex-Spice Girl, and realise that I was crazy, and that the work must continue.
I suspect that sleeping with an adoring fan would be helpful. Alas, there are none or, certainly, none so inclined.
It is such a tough life you lead, young Martin. It surprises me not that you spend so much time relaxing and playing scrabulous...
Psst, just quietly, it's never been the inclination, it's actually the airfare. :P
Martin, you are utterly adorable.
Pfft. Should that particularly slanderous rumour ever find its way into the public arena, I'll deny it. Bah, humbug.
I think it's too late, poppet.
Bah, methinks you have merely confused 'lecherous' with 'adorable' in that head of yours. That'll be my cover story, anyway, until a better one comes along, and I think it'll stand up to at least a little scrutiny in the meantime.
I think twenty minutes scrutiny is more than enough.
The idea of you attempting to be lecherous is really terribly sweet. Go on, lech away!
Out here? In the open? But somebody might see us! Our carefully maintained joint reputation for clean living would be decimated!
It's like a startled Martin-bunny caught in the headlights!
I'm going to come around and throw a rock at your house one day. :P
Dude, where I live that's considered foreplay.
*swoon* So romantic. If I like, drove a car through your front room (just say), would you take it in the spirit that it was meant? :D
I'd probably be in too much shock to take it in any spirit at all. I'm not quite sure how you'd manage it.
But, sure, totally a romantic gesture. As is standing on the street hollering 'show us yer tits, [insert name here], press 'em right up againt the window, woo, yeah.' It's a classy area, what can I say?
I've done it. I've removed everything once. Now, I wish it was still here so I could see that part of myself. It's like I removed some part of my memory and feeling.
Housing prices are sure to skyrocket as word gets out about the classiness you've just mentioned.
And ya can't fault 'em on directness, you have to give them that. None of this 'roses and dinner-style subterfuge' fiasco so popular with the trendy set.
(also, in a rare moment of seriousness, I totally agree with Dan. I deleted two years of solid blog, myself, and feel very much the same as he on the matter.)
The roses, well not roses but some sort of nice flowers would be sweet. As would flowery language - applied correctly. Euphemism can be rather a lot of fun. Still, entirely academic as it is not me being wooed but my charming, absofuckinglutely charming, neighbours.
I doubt I could delete, Dan [and Martin]. Too much like losing a part of myself and I am something of a packrat when it comes to me :p
Good. I enjoy reading here.
Goodness. Thank you, Dan.
I also, as a partially robotic being, enjoy your continued presence on a node of this interlinked computational network, meat being, and second the motion of the aforementioned flesh-bag self-identifying as "Dan".
Mmmmm meat.
Er, yes, thank you too, cyberboy.
All in a day's computation, meat being.
Cyberboy away!
I have an overwheming desire to dress you up as Astro Boy now, Martin. Please say you will.
Scientology?
I could possibly be coerced into dressing as Astro Boy. We need to discuss terms.
What a horrible thought, Dan. Bring not that evil into my house!
Absolutely, Martin. Er, may I call you Astro?
Please don't!
Don't delete or don't have Martin dress up as Astro Boy, Enny? I rather look forward to the latter.
oiouuouo
That is the word verification that appears on my screen right now, and the noise I have made several times while reading the comments on this post. If I were gay, I would have a crush on Mr. Kingsley.
Who needs to be gay? It's okay to crush on peoples of all genders. Though, seriously, if you wanted to do naughty things to/with him that would make you a tiny bit gay, Dan. Martin's a cute little button, I totally have a cute little button crush on him.
Martin you said you were going to come and throw a rock at my house.
Oh, Dan, you know I'd hit that any time, any place.
Come to think of it, you, too, Nails. Just as soon as I get out of this Astro Boy costume.
Dale, it's all a matter of timing. You cannot rush the rock-thrower. The planets have to be aligned, the tea leaves checked, the entrails investigated.
For the layman: I'LL THROW IT WHEN I'M GOOD AN' READY, YA PUSHY BOURGEOIS BASTARD. Sheesh, some people.
I am not pushy, merely wondering how many rocks are being thrown at how many houses.
I guess you could say that when Martin comes to town he's going to rock the whole of Sydney.
Who said you could remove the costume...?
Dale, I'm fluid and adaptable. Rocks will be assigned as necessary.
Nails, ho ho ha ha. Well, not the whoooooole of Sydney. Just the good bits.
And oh, but I...and I thought, and, maybe, I could...and then you said...and I...oh.
Thinking - almost always a mistake.
So, you'll just be rocking bits of the inner west? Fair enough.
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