Gossey?
Jackson?
Don't know him? I pretended I didn't either.
Alright, it's time to level with you, millions of readers.
There's a reason I haven't been around that much these days.
Many of you may have guessed it from my abscent hours, by the time on the stove.
There's someone else.
And, much to your demise, she's tangible.
I had a plan for picking her up at the airport that I didn't enact.
I'm a little disapointed in myself, really, but I guess I'm just not as willing to command a crowd as I used to be.
Speaking of which, can all of you individually pick me up a litre of milk next time you're out?
2%.
She wore a sundress over January clothes.
And I liked it.
She has the brightest eyes. They're blue, but they're kinda...
But listen to me ramble on.
I never mention her much.
This is because when we first started our communication (we met through Turpin over the phone, by the way. We did not meet randomly on the internet, as some filthy bastards have suggested) I decided not to bring it here too much.
I realized that maybe, just maybe, I should keep one portion of my life private.
Besides, I was trying not to freak her out.
I was looking to score, you see.
But now Imogen lives here, and I score 'round the clock.
So, she may now be scrutinized alongside my sisters-in-law, my professors, and even my old pal Gossey.
If you see him, tell him I said 'what's up?'
edit: there is, now, in existence, a picture of us together (some people have been waiting for this. Martin, I'm looking at you). it's just not on facefuck yet. we're drunk in it.
or i know i am.
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