You promise yourself sincerely, firmly and with every intention of following it through to the best of your abilities upon the integrity of your moral fibre etc. that you will not succumb. Ever again, to the temptation of just one more glance. One more look. One more once-over. Not even once.
But you fail. Bound as you are by the gonads [figuratively] to the object of your presently lavished affection. You even vote for it secretly at the Bloggies [which is how I’d have it anyway, though the secretness of it was not of my choosing] despite how lacking-in-respectability it sounds to you [imagine saying ‘I won a bloggy’]. And if it wins [and I have a feeling it will] you expect that he [the writer of ‘it’] will fall at your brown feet and kiss them with undying, unfailing gratitude… for that one defining vote.
What is it about being a fan [uggghhhly word] that makes you so deplorably helpless [and perhaps a teeenieweeeniebit indignant]?
I adore you and you should feel eternal gratitude for the number of minutes that I spend adoring you each day. Don’t get me wrong here [I’m not a stalker] but I have an ego as large, and probably more bruisable than yours and you should know that I [of The H-ness] am allowing you to hold me in a spell and expect that you should know this and perhaps consider feeling somewhat, if not reciprocally spellbound by my adulation, then at least AWED by the space you take up in my brain and obliged thereof to allow me some space in yours, even if just to remark at how I [of The H-ness] have dedicated a valuable chunk of my time to adoring you.
Uggg. This really is disgusting.
But you do know how I have come to adore you, right?
Best of luck with the Bloggies. I hope you win. From the deepest corner of my head.
This is as secretly [since I shan’t share Anon with you] selfless [because I've dedicated one entire post to this drivel] as I could get, unlike Lizza, who dedicates her Saturdays very generously, and selflessly to posts on the many fun blogs she enjoys through the week.
I am not that nice. Clearly.
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About Me
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- To be a bird and shit on all that I fly past.
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8 comments:
Oooh! Someone's cruuuushing! =)
I am not that nice. Clearly.
You have every right to be not-nice and more. :)
hmm so how not nice are you??
I have realised people are actually measuring these things so tell me??
;-)
being a fan isnt disgusting it is merely acknowledging the fact that you would love if you were acknowledged but othewise you would try till you are...
HB: If it's possible to crush on a blog then yes bro, I'm crushing. Seriously.
AC: once again, bwoy, what would I do without you? Though do illustrate the “…and more” bit of it. [I must know what else I have a license to commit].
Pricky: let’s just say I’m like the girl who when she was nice was very very nice, and when she was bad, she put haemorrhoids to shame.
Being a fan is truly completely sick-in-the-head disgusting. Ask me. I feel positively deranged.
Holy cow! (pardon the pun) and so you did sistah...so you did. ~the beginnings of a grin~
Me no understand tho' (it always takes time, I run on diesel u see) ...why deprive yourself of the pleasure if that's what it gives you in bucketloads?
M if you're on diesel, I'm on dung-release girl! but yeah, it's just my arsey ego [go figure! - if it wasn't my head I was talking about, I'd be seriously baffled].
Hmmmm.
Drivel? I think not. You write fantastically about anything and everything and so Anon is so lucky to have someone like you admire him so.
Thank youuuu for the mention, btw.
Ahhh. LIZZZZZZZZAAAA! I was hoping that by mentioning your name on my blog like a secret incantation, you'd feel pulled back into blarghworld. I guess it's worked... slowly though.
;-)
Anon... ah. But I've thanked you a million times for introducing me to Anon! grin. Yes, it is *unmentionable blog*.
Can't say enough how glad I am that you're BACK! hugs.
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