and he loves iago too!

so on friday night i made the schmitz my bitch. cotton too, although i suspect that he's a bit anti-authority, and will need some disciplining before he's truly mine.

i was at the pub, drinking with andrew the boob-toucher, and i spied the schmitz sitting on a couch with a group of virile gel-junkies. after a moments pause and a gulp of vodka i threw caution to the wind (whatever the fuck that means) and knelt down beside the all-schmitzy one.

"the schmitz", i asked, trying to appear like the coolest cat from cooltown, while mentally acknowledging the reality that i was introducing myself to a guy i had been shamelessly cyber-stalking for months.

"yes?" he replied, looking at me like he'd just caught me fucking his mother.

"um...well...fuck me this embarrassing...um...i'm...well...i'm la nadine".

and as i prepared to stand up and run far, far away to a schmitz-free place where nobody knows my name, he grabbed me and kissed me and hugged me.

"you actually exist!" he said, still rubbing his chest against my cans.

"hey cotton, guess who this is. its nadine!" he then said, poking the other hottness in the ribs.

"woo hoo!" replied cotton, or something to that effect.

best. stalking climax. eva.

and so i spent the next few hours drinking and bonding with the fabulous writer boys, marveling over this crazy little thing called blog, and discovering a shared passion for punctuation (among other things).

suffice to say i was schmitzing the whole night long, and i think that if you happen upon taylor square anytime soon you can still see a trail of my lady-jizz extending from one pub to the next. or it could just be drunk man pee. hard to tell.

the schmitz and i even swapped digits and promised to meet up for a meal this week. whether or not that will happen is entirely up to sir schmitzalot. but hey, i have his number now. thus he only has himself to blame for any increased stalking activity on my behalf.

*presses redial*

silly boy.