So Peeps, over the last few weeks I’ve noticed a disturbing trend among my new followers on Twitter because I do check profiles before I follow back. The first time it happened was disturbing enough…
But then another military man express an interest in lil’ ol’ me…
Once the giddiness subsided, I grew suspicious—sadly, virile military men are not your typical romance reader.
This time, now scarred, but wiser from my encounter with the good General (and the fact that Stephen pud-monkey Murphy had zero tweets,) I didn’t follow back, and was able to forgo showering with Lysol a second time…Yeah, me.
But I found the temporal proximity of these events disturbing…
So I decided to ask Deep Thought, a.k.a. Google, the ultimate question about Stephen Murphy’s life, universe, everything…. And the answer I got wasn’t 42.
I was crushed. It wasn’t my unique flare, my profane siren song drawing these fine military specimens to my white haired, post-menopausal self.
No, I was just another nameless face in the herd.
Oh Stephen, we might have had something special if you’d just taken the time to see me in all my stretch-marked, wattled glory.
*Sigh* I guess somethings just aren’t meant to be.
Goodbye, amore… No… Please, no tears….
Pud-monkeys are everywhere…. Don’t be fooled.