Someone has been very clever.
When I walked out of my apartment this morning--late for church, naturally--I found paper hearts plastered all over my windshield.
Somebody gave me a heart attack.
My sisters, the most likely suspects, have denied any involvement in this "terrorist" act.
There are a few clues that will lead me to the identity of this person. 1) They have read this blog. 2) They know my car. 3) They know that I sometimes go by the alias "the Bear." 4) They know where I live, or went out of their way to discover my address. 5) They like Lord of the Rings. 6) They are 99.9% likely to be a she.
Cue Mission Impossible music.
5 comments:
I also disclaim any knowledge of the operation.
Not that I'm a girl or anything.
I bet you don't have the Valentine's Day blues anymore. And once again I swear I had nothing to do with it.
Vesper Lynd: [after discussing poker skills on the train] What else can you surmise, Mr. Bond?
James Bond: About you, Miss Lynd? Well, your beauty's a problem. You worry you won't be taken seriously.
Vesper Lynd: Which one can say of any attractive woman with half a brain.
James Bond: True. But this one overcompensates by wearing slightly masculine clothing. Being more aggressive than her female colleagues. Which gives her a somewhat *prickly* demeanor, and ironically enough, makes it less likely for her to be accepted and promoted by her male superiors, who mistake her insecurities for arrogance. Now, I'd have normally gone with "only child," but by the way you ignored the quip about your parents... I'm going to have to go with "orphan."
Game on Joseph, Game on!
It sounds like the guantlet has been thrown down. I hope you're up for the challenge. This may take all your super Alaskan tracking skills.
Case closed.
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