To My Dear, Dear Stalker
Dear Creepy Stalker (a.k.a. Thierry),
Ok, it has got to stop. Last night was the final straw. When my friends and I need to leave an establishment because you are creeping everyone out with your incessant staring, it is a clue to me that your ridiculous obsession has gone to far. I mean, I haven't felt that much concern for my safety and well being since I was living on the street. 911 was just a "1" away, and had you followed us out I would have pushed it, granted since there is no anti-stalking laws in Florida it would have been in vain. I don't even know how you got my phone number, but if it wasn't a clue that I wouldn't pick up the phone after the 12th time in a day, for 2 months straight than even speaking to you in your native tongue isn't gonna help. I especially love the drunken messages at 3 am on a Tuesday, where you tell me that you hope I have a wonderful life being a dirty American whore. Classy. Thanks for that.
Since I cannot confront you in person, that will probably just encourage you more, I am writing this little note on my blog. I mean, you already have a boyfriend. Why don't you stalk him? Or have you chopped him up into tiny pieces and put him in the freezer? I don't understand what I am supposed to do with this stalking thing, but I don't like my buttons pushed and you are getting a little too close to my personal cushion of security. Like I mentioned before I lived on the streets, and I learned to fight on the streets so keep messing with me and see where it gets you. Don't make me go ghetto on your ass, Frenchy! I will be the last one standing. Bitch.
Hugs and kisses,
the Sherpa of the Banality
(a.k.a. Joshua-Myles)
Ok, it has got to stop. Last night was the final straw. When my friends and I need to leave an establishment because you are creeping everyone out with your incessant staring, it is a clue to me that your ridiculous obsession has gone to far. I mean, I haven't felt that much concern for my safety and well being since I was living on the street. 911 was just a "1" away, and had you followed us out I would have pushed it, granted since there is no anti-stalking laws in Florida it would have been in vain. I don't even know how you got my phone number, but if it wasn't a clue that I wouldn't pick up the phone after the 12th time in a day, for 2 months straight than even speaking to you in your native tongue isn't gonna help. I especially love the drunken messages at 3 am on a Tuesday, where you tell me that you hope I have a wonderful life being a dirty American whore. Classy. Thanks for that.
Since I cannot confront you in person, that will probably just encourage you more, I am writing this little note on my blog. I mean, you already have a boyfriend. Why don't you stalk him? Or have you chopped him up into tiny pieces and put him in the freezer? I don't understand what I am supposed to do with this stalking thing, but I don't like my buttons pushed and you are getting a little too close to my personal cushion of security. Like I mentioned before I lived on the streets, and I learned to fight on the streets so keep messing with me and see where it gets you. Don't make me go ghetto on your ass, Frenchy! I will be the last one standing. Bitch.
Hugs and kisses,
the Sherpa of the Banality
(a.k.a. Joshua-Myles)
posted by Joshua-Myles at 5:10 PM
3 Comments:
do you really have a stalker?! cool!
i thought only celebrities has stalkers. but then again, you are a bit of a celebrity, aren't you, sherpa?
Oh my, I dunno if I am a celeb yet. But you can start up my fan club Jonie. I really have a stalker and he is creeeeepy (but kinda cute in a French kinda way).
Wow -- I am impressed and concerned in equal measure.
Then again, since you obviously know how to defend yourself, the element of danger seems to be removed and therefore all that is left is glamour.
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