Dear Dr. Love:  Logan's Letter #2

Title:  Dear Dr. Love: Logan's Letter #2
Author:  Terri
Rating:  PG
Disclaimer:  I only wish I owned him.
Archive:  Ask, and ye shall receive
Feedback:  Please?  With whipped cream on top?
Comments:  Whoever said Logan has a hard time following advice?


Dear Dr. Love,

First of all, screw you.  I got cojones, man, and if I knew where you lived, you'd already have gotten a claw up your ass for suggestin otherwise.  Anyhow, I followed your advice, and lemme tell ya, there are a coupla things you sure as hell shoulda warned me about.

One-when I stopped flirtin with that other babe, she got pissed as hell.  Now she's a bitch and a half to me and to my girl 24/7.  What the hell do I do to make her be less bitchy?  Cause it's startin to piss me off.

Two-I did what you said about givin my girl flowers and candy and sayin nice things and shit, and you know what?  She seriously thought I'd lost my mind or gotten amnesia again.  It took almost a week to convince her I hadn't, and that no evil telepath or nothin got a hold of my brain.  After we got that straightened out, she made me promise never to bring her flowers or candy ever again.  She said it "wigged her out."  She told me to keep on sayin the nice things, though, even if I don't get em out quite right all the time.  Her little friends think I'm crude or bein an asshole when I tell her she's got a great rack, but I think she understands I mean it in a nice way. 

Three-I did ask her out but I lost my patience and I couldn't be subtle.  Why didn't you tell me that shit was gonna be hard, huh?  I mean, it was just about impossible.  So I ended up just tellin her flat out-look, I wanna know what your deal is cause I think we oughta get together.  That seemed to work out OK, cause she said she loved me and then I said let's move in together and she said OK.  But she's movin in this weekend, and she said somethin about makin space for her stuff.  I don't think that's gonna be a problem, but on the other hand, she's got a lotta girl stuff.  She's not gonna wanna take up the space I use for cigars and booze and car magazines is she?  She's not gonna wanna redecorate or some shit, is she?

So even though a coupla things surprised me, you gave OK advice, so I got a few more questions for ya.  What're the rules about livin together?  Is there anythin special I gotta do or know? She agreed to this and all, but she seems a little nervous and I wanna get off on the right foot here.

And to answer your questions, no it wasn't too many knocks to the head (I got a metal-plated skull) or too much Jack (I never get drunk), it was the government that snatched me and took my memories.  Believe me, you can't turn your back on those fuckers for a second. 

Wonderin in Westchester

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