Post-it after dark

Listening to the  Nick Carter song, Heart without a Home.  Great song. Sad, but aren't all slow romantic songs in the end?
Yeah, you my dear Mr. Scratchy, get a two for one blog ticket on here tonight.  Just because.
Okay, fine, I'm feeling lonely and this helps. Blogging to you. Blogging to The Celebrity, to The Other Guy, to the DoubleStarr. Makes me feel less alone right now.

Is there a slow song you like, or think I would want to check out, Mr. Scratchy? Or a song in general?


I know, I do all the talking, and I'm starting to feel like the cliche of what a woman is always made out to be. The never shutting up part I mean.  But, at this point I have no idea what else to do.  So I keep blogging Mr. Scratchy, keep leaving you these post-it notes. 

Tonight, I imagine you Mr. Scratchy, to be sitting with a few new comics in hand, maybe having just come in from washing your dog. Yes, I still have this feeling you have a dog.  Dressed in a pair of dark jeans, waiting for the laundry to be done, maybe waiting for your buddy to call you back. 

Anyways, Mr.Scratchy; by the time you read this, I'll most likely already be up getting ready for yet another way too early round of physio therapy and doctor's appointments. I get to get yelled at by an egomaniac in the morning. My physio therapist I mean. The dude has admitted to never having any sort of injury ever, never having to even in his training, ever have to simulate what it's like to have an injury, yet he still thinks that everyone should be healed from things at the same degree and speed. Even you, being in the wrestling industry, have witnessed certain injuries heal different for different people. I'm sure you've had a few yourself? Do you have any scars Mr. Scratchy?

As always Mr. Scratchy, I hope I've made you comfortable with a metaphoric hug and maybe made you giggle a bit.