When you're as smart, funny, and amazingly attractive as I am, you would think men would be falling all over themselves to ask you out.  But like poor Nicole Kidman, when you're this fabulous, sometimes the men are intimidated and stand cowering in the corner.  So, for both Nicole and myself, I would just like to ask:  what's a girl got to do to get laid around here?

Since my recent stint as a mail order bride hasn't resulted in any legitimate offers (or at least any where the checks haven't been returned for insufficient funds), I have decided to go a different direction - I'm going to encourage stalkers.  A stalker right now would be the perfect boyfriend - he would never forget to call, leave presents constantly, and live only for me until the day I snub him and he kills me in a particularly violent and painful way.  Now that's love.

Here then, future Faggoty-Ass Faggot stalkers, is a guide to adoring, loving, watching, kidnapping, torturing, and dismembering me.

Ah, the homestead.  The best possible place to leave dead flowers on the porch and to chloroform me in my sleep.  Bushes are provided for your cover, although the deadbolt might be a little tricky.  Don't forget to close the door behind you so the pets don't escape.

Work.  This is my only phone number without caller ID, so you can call and repeatedly hang-up at will.  This is also where you should have animal hearts with spikes jammed through them delivered, as you can lurk down the hallway and hear my screams clearly.  There's security, but a smart stalker can scam his way right past the rent-a-cops.

Outside of home and work, the best place to find me is at the gym.  I'm there four to five days a week for several hours.  You'll have to buy a membership, but since it's a crowded public place, I probably won't even notice you're there.  I'm most sweaty after my thirty minutes of cardio - you can get a good whiff of me if you grab a sample off of the exercise bike while I'm getting the disinfectant spray.

Spring is here, so soon you'll find me sitting out front of my favorite coffee shop.  This one's a little trickier, but I bet you can sit in your car across the street with a high-powered zoom lens and get some good pictures for your shrine.  You can also grab the crumbs from my raspberry white chocolate scone for your collection when I get up to leave.

Summer evenings I often spend here at the neighborhood bar.  You'll never have a more perfect opportunity to slip a roofie in my drink and then steer me toward your waiting tinted-window conversion van.  Bonus at this location - across the street is the supermarket I often shop in - if you poison all of the Ben and Jerry's, at least one of the pints is bound to end up in my cart.

Warmer weather means I'm spending my weekends on a blanket in the park!  Perfect for seeing me with my shirt off, and when I have my eyes closed, you can slip under my car and cut the brake lines.

Here's your only sure bet - I'll be here on June 18 from dawn until after dusk.  Huge crowds, but you'll easily find me because I'll have on my official head-set.  With so many people, I won't even see you.  Plus, I'm likely to walk to my car in the dark by myself, and when I don't answer my phone for days, people will assume it's because I'm so worn out.  Score!

So there you have it.  Wow, this is the most exciting love affair I've had in years.  Finally, someone to watch over me.  I'll see you later honey - or will I?