I Remember

Shank doesn't remember our phone call, but I remember it quite clearly.

I remember when he was trying to convince me to leave Paul for him, and mentioned Paul sent him a wedding gift. I asked what the gift was, to which Shank replied, "I'm not telling you. I know you and Paul are in cahoots together."

Which obviously means Shank can't remember what Paul sent him. The ungrateful little bastard.

And I remember when I ended the call and told Shank I was indeed "totally blowing [him] off" and he seemed to lose all concentration before mumbling, "I'd like that." But that sort of thing isn't exactly a newsflash, is it? Not when his post titles are things like Jenelle is going down. I mean, I think everybody here knows where his head is at, and exactly what he was doing within five seconds of my hanging up on him.

This whole blogwar is just a ruse by Shank to get some attention from someone who does not return his affections and focuses instead on his co-bloggers.

It's sad, really.

But. Any blogwar must have conditions. Terms of surrender. And these are the first I will offer. If they are not met, the next will be worse. And so on.

1. Shank must begin every post with the phrase, "I know I'm not as good as Jim and Paul, but I hope you'll like the following. I spent a lot of time and thought on it. Please be kind." This must be done for one week.

2. Shank will stop thinking of me when he has his "alone time." It freaks me out.

Should Shank accept and fulfill these terms, I will go back to ignoring him except when he blogs about me, and we shall consider the blogwar at an end.

Posted by Jenelle at June 26, 2006 10:03 PM | TrackBack