An open leter....

Stalker boy is continuing to harass me. And its really, really getting on my tits. So, an open letter, addressed to stalker boy.
Dear ______,
When you feel the need to send me 15 texts the day after meeting, fine. Thats your perogative, and more importantly, your credit. However, if I fail to respond to any of these texts, surely this sows seeds of doubt in your mind that I'm not really that interested. Then again, it could be assumed I haven't got credit. Thats very possible actually, it is usually the case.

If I miss one phonecall, I understand you might try again later. Y'know, just in case I missed your very important call. If I don't answer the subsequent four phonecalls, I can assure you its not because I lost the use of my motory nervous system. Far more likely that I don't want to talk to you.

If I continue to ignore texts for the next 3 weeks, then you're clearly a bit f**king thick. Or far too persistent. Most people would have heard the hint loud and clear by now. Now, kindly piss off and stop wasting valuble space in my inbox.

And, if you ever contemplate using that trick of using a different number to text and call, DON'T. During the summer, I lost all my numbers, and between that and randomly meeting people on nights out, I get quite a few texts from unknown numbers. So I replied to this unknown number text this evening out of sheer curiousity. The reply? Well to paraphrase; "hello this is stalker boy, my my, aren't I smart?! Using a new number!". I ignored it, obviously, thinking that would well and truly be the end of it. But no. You call. Three times. Try it again, and I will pay someone to cut off your testicles with blunt shears. Because I certainly won't give you the satisfaction of a personal visit.

Sod off.

Teresa.





Ahhhh. Rant over. I'm not sure why, but it really pissed me off this evening and put me in a really foul mood. I know its only a small stupid thing, and maybe I'm just an emotionally-void cow. I do feel better though. All hail the Jon Richardson way of life.