Oh, That's Why The Yellow Line Is There

You have to wonder what the ensuing relationship will be like when attempted murder is the starting point.

"Honey, you remember how we met? That day you tried to kill me?"

"Of course sweetheart, how could I forget? Now drink your tea."

"Hey, why does this smell like bitter almonds?"

Here's Tweeting

At the behest of at least one fan and because it's what the kids are into these days, Here's Leering At You is now available on Twitter!

Too much effort to type in the whole URL? Don't want to change your homepage from Lavalife.com? Confused and scared by the term "RSS aggregator"? Well, worry no more! Now you can find out about new Here's Leering At You entries while you check up on the status of Stephen Fry's social calendar.

Head on over to http://twitter.com/heresleering and drink in the delicious irony of following someone who makes fun of people that are following other people.

Meyer Culpa

Firstly, damn you for making me look up who Jacob from Twilight is. Secondly, if you need to become infatuated with literary characters, there are so many better choices. How come nobody writes love letters to Yossarian? Or Queequeg? Hell, I used to work with Tom Bombadil and the poor guy could never get a date.

Also, Jacob dies in the fifth book. Take that, Twilight fans.

It Rubs The Lotion On Its Skin Or Else It Gets The Hose Again

Ok, so in the time I've been running this blog I've seen references to polygamy, cannibalism and public urination, but this is a new low. Word of advice to YYY: you might want to make sure what you're saying is actually an innuendo and not just a description of animal cruelty. For instance, offering to cut off someone's skin, cure it with salt and hang it decoratively on your wall is not an innuendo. Neither are any of the following:

To the girl wearing a shirt with a horse on it, I want to cut off your feet and render them into glue. Single?

To the girl wearing a panda hoodie, I want to force you to breed in captivity. Drinks?

To the girl with the tiger print bag, I want to systematically poach your species to the brink of extinction and sell your genitals as an aphrodisiac. Coffee?

See? It's creepy.

Regular Services Will Resume Shortly, Here's Leering Apologises For Any Incovenience Caused

Where the hell have I been? Or more importantly, where have all the lonely-but-a-little-bit-weird commuters been? Was there some kind of amnesty declared between Valentine's and Easter? Admittedly between working nights and starting uni I haven't picked up every mX, but I got most of them and there seemed to be nothing but genuine, generic and genial romantic intentions!

And so for two months I have been without viable source material, but no more. It's good to be back.










By the way, I too am taken so I can't ask you out either. I'd also like to apologise on behalf of a friend of mine who's single but not really looking for anything right now because things are kind of complicated, as well as the Norse god Odin (he could ask you out, but you're not his type).

Am I missing some vital train etiquette here, are we supposed to explain ourselves to every girl who sits next to us? Because apparently sitting nearby constitutes an expression of interest according to Glen. Poor Glen, it must be a nightmare having hundreds of people asking you out every day.








Wow, people actually call themselves Sk8a Boi, huh? Now, last time someone mentioned Pokemon I said I wasn't going on Wikipedia. This time I did, and "Evey" redirects to Evey Hammond from V For Vendetta, which is infinitely better. Unless the aforementioned Pokemon has powers that involve corrupt fascist governments in the not-too-distant future.

Pokemon fans, feel free to enlighten me in the comments. Avril Lavigne fans, feel free to destroy my love of the English language with further grammatical abominations.

I See Myself As The Grinch Of This Particular Holiday

Sure, mX has a two-page spread devoted to Valentine's Day love letters, a third of which is taken up by an ad for cheap domestic flights. And sure, there's a myriad of awful poetry that I could have a field day with. But you expect bad poetry on Valentine's Day. What really gets to me are the god-awful metaphors people like to use in regular prose dedications.










Chocolate bunnies are for Easter so you may have gotten confused in the gift-buying process, glow sticks fade after three hours, Gandalf is never looking for a serious relationship and I don't even want to know what a goddamn sugar snaffler is.

Wait, wasn't the sugar snaffler a less popular character on Sesame St?

Get Off My Lawn

Yes, you should. Blonde girl, call him immediately. I know I'm supposed to make fun of these, but the idea of Gran Torino as a date movie is so awesome I just can't bring myself to do it.

The Gropes Of Wrath

Accidentally, Matt? Really?

Maybe this sort of approach works, but I don't see how you can go from inadvertently reaching second base to intentionally stepping up to bat.

One More Thing Attractive People Can Get Away With

Did anyone try explaining to this gentleman that toilet training doesn't have to involve an actual train?

The Orange Badge Of Discourage

I like where this person is coming from. They've looked at the funhouse mirror of humanity that is HLAY and they've said to themselves, "I don't want to read these things, let's take out the middle man." And I agree. So, I respectfully present the Here's Leering At You alternatives to mX's badge, for the more discerning, more sarcastic romantic.










But hey, if you're reading this blog you'd probably prefer to be left alone. And so, in the interests of journalistic balance, here are the opposites.










Click for larger versions, save to your computer and print. Good luck out there, folks.

These Aren't The Darcys You're Looking For

I'm really only posting this one because it's an excuse to Photoshop this:























In all seriousness, a literary geek and a sci-fi geek getting together? That's awesome, best of luck to you.

Who's the Dos?

Word of advice, Dos: never fall in love with a piece of entertainment journalism. I remember I once dated the "J" section of Leonard Maltin's Movie Guide, 1998 edition. Sure, we had a good thing going for a while, but in the end we grew apart, especially when she refused to see or even acknowledge films like Jawbreaker, Jason X and John Tucker Must Die.

If Only There Was A Joke I Could Make About Small Furry Creatures & Balls

Welcome back, mX.

This blew my fucking mind on the train home today. Not only is there someone willingly dressing as Pikachu (I know Galactic Circus staff have to dress up, but he still chose that over unemployment), but someone's cosplay-stalking him.

To be fair though, it must be lonely being a member of Team Rocket. You'll be talking to a cute little Pikachu, there's a bit of a spark between you, then you get eaten by a goddamned Charizard. This is the extent of my Pokemon knowledge; I'm not going on Wikipedia.

I've A Lumberjacket And I'm Ok

Maybe I'm being paranoid, but sometimes it seems like mX staff are writing these to try and bait me. Still, on with the show.

You might think I'm about to make fun of bogans or alcoholics or the dentally impaired, but you'd be wrong. I'd just like to point something out to anyone trying to find love through HLAY; anyone that eagerly scours the entries every day hoping to get a mention. A physically abusive mother with three front teeth who is drunk at 10 in the morning is the leading candidate for transport romance. Are you sure that's something you want to be a part of?

Please Tell Me You Didn't Sit On His Lap

Harley, I think maybe it's time to tell you the truth. You know how all those kids at school, and then everyone at uni, and now everyone at your job keeps telling you that Santa's not real? Well, they're right. I know we probably should have told you sooner, rather than letting you grow into a 29-year-old with a warped sense of reality, but that's all in the past now. Merry Christmas.

Also, I recommend you watch Silent Night, Deadly Night as a cautionary tale against anyone dressed as Santa.