You know that thing when you see someone cute and he smiles and your heart kind of goes like warm butter sliding down hot toast? Well that's what it's like when I see a store. Only it's better.
:
Matey!
My Feedjit updater shows that someone from Dublin, Ireland visits this site regularly. To that someone, I only have one bloody message for you, pal:
ZZOMGOSH!!! I REALLY HOPE YOU ARE MR. MARK MICHAEL PATRICK FEEHILY!!!
And losers, if you don't know him, then I pity you! Bwahaha! But seriously, I don't know anyone from there. I don't have relatives, friends or even cyberblog friends there. So if that's you, Mark, bugger, please oh please leave a message on my cbox. Blimey! I still looove you-- even if you're into boys now. Huhu!
But I... I forgive you... and one day maybe we can go shopping together; and try on clothes, preferably in the loo; we could also go to a salon- and we'd both get our hair and nails done while talking about that fugly butterface Mariah and her fat arse; then you and me could maybe self-tan each other, that would be awesome; or we could go skinny-dipping and then you'll show me your Big Ben, err, I mean The Big Ben, you know the one in London, maybe you could tour me around that area; or maybe we'd just watch all of your music videos together, just you and me, yea?; I might even let you read a fan fiction I made of you and me when I was 15; oh, and let's not forget to visit Mary, she'll like that, lol; and the best thing that we could do together, DUET!!! Woooo! I would die.
"The more I know of you, is the more I know I love you. And the more that I'm sure, I want you forever and ever more..."Oi, psychobabbling me! Mental!!!
P.S. Hey, did you notice, I was typing that with an English accent. Oh, behave!
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