If you have been around here for very long (as in since last Christmas), it should not come as a surprise that I love me some HeatMiser. There is just something about that hot little fellow.
So, it looks like the Star may have gotten wind of a deep dark secret that I thought would never come back to haunt me. I was sure I paid off the right people. However, I suppose I should be the one to tell you, my dear readers.
Years ago, in a moment of heated passion, I gave into my longing for Heat Miser. Oh, it was a short-lived little fling. He was just too hot for me to handle. (You know. That whole “whatever he touches starts to melt in his clutch” thing got old fast. ) Though I tried so hard to keep it a secret, the truth has been revealed.
There was as love child. Yes, my friends, I am the mother to Heat Miser’s bastard son.
See for yourself.
Heat Miser:
Me
Our Bastard Son:
**(Sorry, sweetheart. I know I should’ve told you before now and definitely not in a blog entry. But better here than in the Star, right?)
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