Hold Me, Thrill Me, Stalk Me, Kill Me

A couple of days ago, I found this picture in my phone:



I think it was taken on New Year's Eve, but I have no idea who the hell that guy is. Or at least I didn't, until the phone calls started.

He left a message for me last night. Harmless enough. Just "Hi, Kari, this is Random Bar Dude. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to you on New Year's Eve--" and this is where I suddenly had a vivid recollection of sitting in a puddle of beer on the bar floor "--so anyway I was hoping we could maybe get together sometime--" Whatever, Guy I Don't Remember. DELETE!

And that's the end of that.

Right?

HA HA HA HA HA. That would be waaaay too easy.

Do I have "STALK ME" tattooed across my forehead in Nerd Ink? Because Random Bar Dude has called me no less than four times. SINCE LAST NIGHT. And you guys remember Chadtastic? He emailed Wednesday, asking if I wanted to go to that Elvis musical this weekend. I haven't seen the guy since that one time in October, but whatever. Crazy Michigan Guy wants to send me shoes. Oh lord, look what he just emailed me:

I listened to the same album last night (while sipping hot chocolate with marshmallows) and thought of you, as well. Aw shucks, I guess I am pretty sweet, but what can I say...I was having sweet thoughts.

Hey! Keep your "sweet thoughts" to yourself, mister. And also, WHY GOD WHY?

Curse this beautiful face!

Dylan wonders what all the fuss is about.