I feel so flattered!

Aside from Mohinder being madly in love with me in my wildest fantasies, it also turns out that I have, dare I say it, another admirer! I won't say who it is since it would be totally scandalous, but needless to say, he buys me Twinkies and waffles -- but I feel so betrayed!

Why, you ask?

Because I caught this man phasing through a door to steal my beloved Twinkies! Can you believe that?! That is so worse than cheating on someone. Stealing Twinkies...never have I been so offended! And it was just so out of character for the dear, dear You Know Who. Here I thought all he could do was fly. Now I know that I can use him to steal Twinkies out of bakeries for me in the future. Twinkies are better than biscuits (sorry, Claude.)

I've since picked up another friend from my sort-of intergalactic travels (it's very easy for me to be in two places at once, you see -- I've successfully mastered asexual reproduction without losing weight! It's incredible. I could so be like the next Virgin Mary!) Unfortunately, my new friend doesn't quite understand the concept of not grabbing women by their chests, much like He Who Must Not Be Named -- but at least the guy writing a dating application for his brother was kind enough to buy me a box of Twinkies first before he got too distracted by my -- how did Mohinder put it? Corpusculent beauty? Something like that.

While my dear out of town friend Michael and Peter were battling it out on my journal (the intarwebz are serious business!) about who was more emo, I was busy finding myself a nice new bikini. The Bikini of Doom. I have been doomed to look like a certain Greek warrior princess indefinitely. I was never notified about when I could take the costume off -- but I kind of like it. You know, that whole superhero thing. It just makes me stick out like a sore thumb. I may as well make a light show above my head that reads:

With my luck, he'd probably leave my brain and steal my bikini (it's too big for you, sweetie, so I wouldn't bother. I'll let you decide if I'm referring to my brain or my bikini here.)

Anyways, Michael is kicking me off the laptop because he is demanding to have an Internet Emo Cut Yourself To The Death *Crycrystabbitystabtears* match with Peter. Who will win?!

~ Lana