Oh, come on.

Why is it that the more gently you try to put something to bed the more likely it is that your hot water bottle will explode all over it?

Good idea of mine, this being chums. (And become my live-in...chum.) Nearly all the fun of the fair without all that tedious timetabling of phone calls so as not to appear desperate / overly keen / remotely interested. After all, we were chums before, weren't we?

A quick recap for those of us who had to use the facilities:

1994: Sat next to you on the bus on the way to work.
1994 - 2002, for God's sake: Intermittent bursts of disgraceful fancying behaviour.
2003 - 2005: Thrice-yearly how the hell are you and happy birthday emails.
June 2005ish: Botched attempt at declaration of admiration.
Jan 2006: Finally, decisively disinterested. At last.
Nov 2006: Seduced out of the blue.
Dec 2006 - March 2007: Wide-scale confusion interspersed with glorious flashes of giddiness.
April 2007 - Never mind, we can still be friends.
May 2007: Oh. Getting the picture.
June 2007 - Best not to respond.

So why, why did you bother, you silly, twisted boy? That's 13 years of happy encounters to be written off in light of 2007, the Year of Crappy Timing
(ie yours), and your bloody fingerprints are all over this city. I can't go anywhere without meeting a ghost.

Who the hell is going to quote Kenny Everett to me now?