This is so extra-terrestrial. The bugging started late last night and persisted until this morning.

"Start posting," she demanded impatiently.

Just like you, I have no idea as to why she picked me to blog on her behalf. I mean, of all people why choose someone who's not into jimmy choos or anything pink? Take my word for it. I never fantasized about her in this approach.

So, yeah, her turf is wide open. I've got the keys to her house but only because we've become intimate on a certain level to make me her aliping sagigilid.

Cue in mental processing...

I could be the mischievous caretaker and impulsively alter the dominant color from pink to blue. Or amend her blog name into a single word that is well-nigh symmetrical - realism. Or upload a new skin that would reflect my semi-sasquatch behavior.

But let's not explore the possibility on the drastic/bold changes I might dreadfully decide on. In the first place, I won't make the hassle. I'll try to keep the peace in here.

Lest she gripes that she, alas, gave the privilege to the wrong person, I will be a good guest. Plus the fact that there's immense pressure when she commissioned almost everyone to email her once I've overstepped. (FYI. There's no rule on emailing her just to shout out that I am aptly entertaining you while she's "clearing" the bar.)

Thus, there won't be any Chippendale look-alike photos posted, even if you put your soul on the market to the pitchfork guy. I won't even light my Marlboro green while blogging because she doesn't smoke. I will categorically not flirt with women who are, in my regard, God's gift to men. And, sure, I will update you on how she is doing - a discreet attempt to stalk and film her panic attacks in compassionate words.

Scout's honor.