I have kind of a crush on my comic-book guy. It's a geekboy thing.
This isn't my comic-book guy, though. He's a fellow customer, and apparently, he's been eyeballing me for weeks. He told me so after he flagged me down in the parking lot last week.
It seems that it's hard to get my attention when I'm inside the store.
My toe is still there, but I haven't seen the doctor.
If you want to be grossed out, you can see what it looks like at [link] , but don't say I didn't warn you.
Ah, a stalker. Great.
I just want to get my damn comics and go home. I do not want to make awkward conversation with a complete stranger. If I see him there, maybe I'll just say, "Sorry, I don't date Republicans or people named Mike."
Shrift, how good are you at Halloween fake wound make-up? I'm thinking a facial scar and replying "got in a knife fight" to any questions about same could be a fun way to discourage his attentions.
If you want to be grossed out, you can see what it looks like at [link] , but don't say I didn't warn you.
It's not gross; just purple. Tape it to the next toe and then get ready to hobble.
Shrift, how good are you at Halloween fake wound make-up?
Well, I usually go straight from work, so pustulent sores and festering wounds would invite more questions from my coworkers than I'm prepared to answer.
I suppose I could crush his immortal soul underneath my steel-toes. I
need
the new
Teen Titans,
man.
I suppose I could crush his immortal soul underneath my steel-toes. I need the new Teen Titans, man.
See, I like Shrift's method of dealing.
Shrift, explain to him that you have really strict standards for your menfolk, and that you just don't think that he would look that good in eyeliner and glitter.
Buffistas give the bestest advice in the world, they do!