‘Cuz I’m A Creep

Please press play: 


I’m turning into the biggest, sketchiest, pervy creep of Creepville! There is not a man whose path I cross where I am not literally licking my chops to figure out which sport he plays, which area of town he’s from, what size pants he’s wearing, how well we’d match horizontally!

Take last night for instance: sitting on the train going home, perpendicular to a gentleman. Now, if I could just say this was a “good-looking gentleman,” there would be no issue. But no, lemme break it on down to Hunkytown.


White & dark purple checkered collared shirt, rolled up just enough to look chill but not enough to look “done.”

Charcoal-coloured jeans, not skinny but definitely hung of all the right spots.

His sneakers were the same colour as his jeans with white soles. Laces. Non-brand name.

His eyelashes would probably allow him to take flight if he blinked too quickly.

His hair? Run-your-hands-through-it perfection. I’m sure he somehow imports Timotei.

I feel like I’m in a ‘Man Matrix,’ seeing ALL these hotties in binary code.

Binary Code

*single blink* Good God, it must be Spring because the fevaaaaah is here.


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