There’s no two ways about it, I have red fever. I’m not sure when it started or how started, but it is an illness that I now recognize and have to live with.
I am in love with red hair. It does not matter if it is naturally red or some shade of red, it sets my teeth on edge.
Flo from Progressive, I love you.
Scully from the X files reruns. You rock.
Part of this new found illness is that I don’t differentiate between true redheads and the chemically altered, they are all bewitching.
The girl at the convenience store, rock on.
The chick at the bank with the pink hair, see you on Friday.
The funky chick at my work with the crazy streaks, shine on you crazy diamond.
You all made Roy G Biv your bitch and I love you for it!
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kickass complimentary posts like this one help to combat the creepy “do the carpets match the drapes” or “it is true what they say about redheads in bed” bullshit us gingers have to deal with. (btw- yes, we do eat the bodies post-coitus.)
Glad you took it the way I meant it
I too suffer from this ailment. However,
Flo is from Progressive… AND SHE’S MINE!!!!!
it’s called gingervitis…
My husband is a ginger. I too have red fever and have had it since the sixth grade, which incidentally is when I met my husband. I have dated more red headed men than any other color. It is indeed a long lasting affliction. The carpets do indeed match the drapes. LONG LIVE GINGER LOVE!
How do you get past the fact that they have no souls?
I suppose that does pose a problem…