bill-swift - November 11, 2010
Not really stalking so much as admiring, from a distance, or close-up, with a camera, or a makeshift periscope fashioned from the fake 'Lost Dog' fliers I post on the telephone poles as I follow the ridiculously hot Ashley Greene down the streets of Beverly Hills. Ooh, Ashley, is that your sexy black bra I see you're wearing today? How delightful. Oh, Ms. Greene, you seem to have dropped your pencil. What? You're not falling for the same trick that worked on my cougar-crush fifth grade teacher, the lithe Ms. Futzenbaum? Okay. Time for the gym. Can I hold your eco-friendly water bottle while you do your squats, I promise not to tilt my head in such an obvious ogle this time. Wow, Ashley, you've worked up quite a sweat, must be time for the showers, and... security? Why do you need to call security? This seems so hasty. Gotta run. See you tomorrow.