February 1, 2012
However, let me tell you, that slouchy cap tucked into his back pocket is making me notice something I wouldn't have noticed before. It's like his version of a padded bra. I can't help staring. I'm transfixed! He's leaning over the bar trying to flag the bartender down and I'm licking my lips like when Newman hallucinated that Kramer was a roasted chicken.
And, the best part is that he's totally unaware that I'm checking him out. Unless he has eyes in the back of his head or something, I'm free to subject to him to my lustful gaze. You hear that? That's the sound of me contorting my body to pat myself on the back for finding one more way to be creepy on the sly.