I am not Alyson's stalker. I mean, sure, I know her or something. We might have met in passing once, in a store, or at a bar, or what have you -- but that's all; people just run into each other sometimes. And of course, sometimes you'll make eye contact, or you'll accidentally bump into her arm, and both of you will smile in awkward embarassment or coy flirtation. Which is enough of like what happened to both avoid satisfying her curiousity, and also allow me to say that at that point, when I saw her dimpled grin and most excellent teeth... ...she became I knew then that she was the perfect, pure, chestnut-haired canvas upon which I would paint my life. But, as I said, I am not Alyson's stalker. Mostly the authorities are on my side. I mean, yes, they ask you to (please) not intercept the pizza delivery person every time she orders out, when all you want to do is test her food to make sure some sick bastard isn't trying to poison her so that I can't have her! and stuff like that, but otherwise they find it cutely amusing. I guess they mostly think I'm harmless. Which I am. Because I'm not Alyson's stalker. I have three different hairs from three different parts of Alyson's body that I keep safely treasured in a locket next to my heart. She doesn't know I have them, but I know she wanted me to have them because she didn't wake up. Alyson really loves Tori Amos. She's always singing Tori Amos songs fantastically well in the shower, and one time she was fooling around with a guy who wasn't me! and accidentally called him "Tori." I'm trying to figure out a way to get her to call out my name, but most of my plans have failed. Mental note: kill Tori Amos. But that doesn't mean I'm Alyson's stalker. She just loves me more than anyone else; that's all.   Disclaimer: I am not an alien.