Love song dedications

I received another late night love song voicemail from Mr Zig Zog. This time it was backed up by Unchained Melody and telling me about his heart bleeding love. Thank god he didn't discover Leona Lewis.

And he also revealed he was leaving voicemails for me on someone else's voicemail because he was typing my name into the phone from the letters on the telephone keypad, so it was going to their phones and not mine.

If he wasn't verifiably psychotic, I woulda thought he was just getting drunk and leaving me midnight messages inspired by Mix 106.5 Love Song Dedications or something.

I want to stalk you #2

Gave in. Google stalked him.

I want to stalk you

I met a journo at work the other day. We are not allowed to talk to journos, cos the work we do has to remain private and secure (not like spy-secretive or anything but it would be very bad) and we aren't allowed to fraternise with em.

But..... He was really hot. And he was oblivious to the fact that the big boss' EA and all his camera crew were heading off for the actual interview he was supposed to be doing and going oi hey let's go while he was talking to me about the TIO. It was funny. Except the death stares from the EA that is at why I was talking the journo and he was ignoring her firm requests to hurry the fuck up.

So yeah. I really like him and would really really love to google stalk him but have somehow resisted.

Sigh.

Stalker #2

Mr Undies told me a little while ago that he purposely kept from me and the other flatmate that he knew our ex-flattie who we HATED (and who on thinking back now, was the original Mr Undies). In fact, not just that he knew him, but that he was friends with him, regularly went drinking with him and purposely kept that knowledge from us because of his own sinister purposes.

Anyway, Mr Undies told me he was moving out with his (ahem, vomit) girlfriend. Cue screaming, eye scratching images of Mr and Mrs Undies shagging. VOMIT. Right... um... where was I? OK. So I interview a gazillion people for the room and make a decision without telling Flatmate #2 because he doesn't care anyway.

I ponder and eventually make my decision public on facebook who I have picked. Flatmate #2 and Mr Undies are not on my facebook (Mr Undies is in fact pre-emptively blocked in a story for another occasion). However, Mr Original Undies IS on my facebook.

A few hours after posting the details of the new flatmate, I see Mr Undies (and Mrs Undies! She exists!!) and he asks me about "the new girl". It doesn't click with me til later that he clearly has knowledge of my facebook stuff and I and my friends have been slagging him off this whole time. No wonder he's moving out. But either way I'm happy to be rid of him at long last.

I also surreptitiously act like a spy and take secret photos of Mr and Mrs Undies to show people who have yet to see them in person. Unfortunately Mrs Undies is too quick to be captured by camera, but Mr Undies has been. Woo.

Hello stalker

Hi Daniel.