Dear Tom Skerritt, celebrity, quit stalking me.

So I had to go to Jimmy Mac’s the other day (please don’t ask why; it was for work, I swear). As I’m waiting in the bar, making my purchase, I glance up at the wall to see a Jimmy Mac’s T-shirt, signed by some celebrity. Something familiar seems to stand out to me. My name! And most of you know, Heartichoke (that’s me), is certainly not a common name—but there it was!

“Thanks [Heartichoke]! This is a great place!”

And, sit down, hold your breath, it’s signed by none other than Tom Skerritt!

Now, if you don’t recall from my earlier celebrity posts (please see Celebrity Sighting), this is not my first run-in with Commander Viper (you know, Top Gun?). We are more than familiar, and in fact I’ve been trying to avoid him ever since. But here he is again in my life, signing t-shirts to me. Really Tom, this is too much. You need to stop looking for me, stop stalking me. I’ve had enough. The saga must end here.

Go get a life, a new obsession, and for goodness sake, quit going to Jimmy Mac’s.