The more you ignore me
The closer I get
You're wasting your time
The more you ignore me
The closer I get
You're wasting your time
I will be
In the bar
With my head
On the bar
I am now
A central part
Of your mind's landscape
Whether you care
Or do not
Yeah, I've made up your mind
The more you ignore me
The closer I get
You're wasting your time
The more you ignore me
The closer I get
You're wasting your time
Beware!
I bear more grudges
Than lonely high court judges
When you sleep
I will creep
Into your thoughts
Like a bad debt
That you can't pay
Take the easy way
And give in
Yeah, and let me in
Oh, let me in
Oh let me ...
Oh, let me in
It's war
It's war
It's war
It's war
It's war
War
War
War
War
Oh, let me in
Ah, the closer I get
Ah, you're asking for it
Ah, the closer I get
Ooh, the closer I ...
Morrissey said it better than I ever could.
Get the picture?
Good!
20 comments:
I find it hard to believe that anyone would or could ignore you.
But I think I understand the rage of being ignored. I hate being ignored: love me, hate me, but don't pretend I'm not there. It pisses me off.
I'll invade, too, if I feel ignored. Once I've breached the beach though I'll go away. I've proved my point and now I can do the ignoring.
Nessa: You're sweet. I think we're remarkably similar. We both hate being ignored. But we don't mind doing the ignoring. Haha.
Quasar: Sigh. OK. I am a Drama Queen (I am Indian after all, it's in the blood). And a Snow Queen (I was brought up by parents who were brought up under the British). So I alternative between high drama and freezing coldness. But then you had me all figured out already, hadn't you?
"I will not be ignored Dan."
Ever since Glenn Close uttered this line in that terrifying way I have thought it a basic survival skill not to ignore a woman intentionally. Though trouble of this variety has occasionally found me, it's usually because of my rampent obliviousness than anything.
And be assured that I will not ignore you whilst on the Malaysian leg of my headlining book tour. If memory serves, I owe you dinner (or something), and we have a tea-date (or coffee-date).
Quasar: All over me? Oh my. Hmmm I can't answer your question. But it isn't you. So I won't be sitting across from you at a bar, bashing my head, and staring you down, sending you a beer with crushed glass inside, and smiling through my bleeding gums or roasting your bunny (actually I would never ever roast a bunny)
PTB: Hahahahaha...really? I never watched that movie but I do understand that it had enormous impact on the American male psyche.
I will not be ignored, Dan?
I know just how she feels.
Um...technically she boiled the rabbits. I only point it because the American Male Psyche has a habit of thinking things like, "I hope she doesn't end up boiling my rabbits." Which, if you don't get the reference, sounds much dirtier.
I thought she put the rabbit in the microwave.
I read that the original script was much simpler. Just Glenn Close calling over and over again until the wife picked up the phone. And then, blackout.
Now I am gonna sit here and try to figure out what you mean by I hope she doesn't boil my rabbit. Hmmmmm a few possibilities spring to mind...but how does one boil something like that? It would present an interesting problem.
I'm a little comfused as well. Personally, if a woman told me she'd like to boil my rabbits, I'd think I was in for a really good time. But then, I'm incredibly naive that way and wouldn't figure it out until she had me strapped to some fell contrivance with a tripod, pot, and a bunsen burner between my legs.
LMFAO! Oh goodness Bo! You ARE a writer...that picture was priceless!
"fell contrivance" reminds me of LOTR.
"There is a fell voice in the air."
"It is Saruman!"
Past midnight. I am a creature of the night. Sometimes I walk through empty streets and smile hopefully up into the face of sinister strangers. They move away quickly.
Oh well.
Any contrivance meant to boil, microwave, sautee, sear, broil, roast, fry, simmer, or julienne my precious rabbits is a fell one indeed.
btw: I once wrote a story (called The Janitor Mafia) in which a guy gets his pubes seared off, one by one, with a knife dipped in hot oil. I wasn't too graphic about it, prefering to let one's imagingation fill in the pain.
Why was this punishment doled out you might ask? For consistently being a slob in public bathrooms. And it is only now, five years later, that I realize I've had major issues with public restrooms my whole life.
You all are so funny.
Jenn, forget boiling bunnies -- vice grips.
"Nuf said?
Quasar9: Don't go all secret with your comments. I love to live vicariously through others. How else will I get my jollies?
Quasar: Well you have been an active bunny (and not the boiled variety I might add - here's hoping Glenn Close doesn't get you). I notice that you edit the comments (on your site) for tone. Interesting.
PTB: I would just have you know that I went to bed with images of you astride a pot of boiling water. On your face there was an expression of mild, inquiring surprise. I alternated between fits of giggles and spasms of empathetic ouching. Would like to read your story. Maybe you can email it to me.
Nessa: Yup. Frigging hilarious. Don't worry, I don't think Quasar is about to go "secret". Hahahahaha.
Quilly: Vice grips? Serious OUCH!
Jenn,
I guarantee with the vice grips you will NOT be ignored. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee that the fella would never come close enough to you to ignore you again.
I can't guarantee you won't end up in a 5x5 cell with steel window and door decor.
Quilly - I go in the path of all the castrating females before me - Medea, Klytemnestra....oh dear, there must be a better way than vice grips!
You do realize of course when I really want to castrate a man I just use words; very effective and virtually bloodless -- at least visually.
Quasar: What else do you curl up in bed with? I mean other than the teddy?
Quilly: I like your style.
This has to be one of the wierdest comment board I've ever seen or been a part of.
Sorry about the bedtime images, though the look of mild, inquiring surprise is probably exactly exactly the expression I would have.
Vice grips, on the other hand, only insinuate the sort of pain that I'm not into.
I hunt around for the story. It's not great writing, but it's fun.
PTB: I think you should share with the whole class.
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