stop toying with me.

twice now i have received emails notifying me of cryptic, subjectless comments having been left on my blog, and when i come to look for them so that i may potentially figure out what the hell they're all about, there are no such comments to be found. today's said simply, "i do not think so." what, raphael muszynski? what do you not think? that the squash soup is tasty? that it's mean to kick little dogs? that seahorses go to heaven for being exceptional spouses? what? help me help you, darling. together we can come to a happy compromise, i'm sure. i won't yell at you, i swear it; sometimes i do not think things, too. like, just this morning, i did not think that it was fun to wake up unexpectedly at 5:30 a.m. on my day off, and when i got your murky comment i did not think i had any idea what you were saying. see? we could be friends, if you would only open up to me. take your time; i'll be here if you change your mind.


update, 12/9/05, 3:33 pm: these brief, ennui-saturated non-comments are a bit of a habit for mr. muszynski. see here and here for more lasting examples of his stinging wit. still, though, i would like to know what opinion of mine prompted his dissent, 'cause i'm an overly sensitive narcissist. perhaps he'll tell me some day, if i'm very, very good. in the meantime, i'm having fun guessing. do you not think there could ever be another z-man? because i don't really think so, either, i just got swept up in the prettiness of cillian's moment.