"My work may be garbage but it's good garbage." Mickey Spillane
I have decided to make a clearer statement to my rejected swains of yesteryear that insist upon either chasing me or harassing me with phone calls, emails, and nasty posts on boards and blogs.
And I intend to do it with a make-over. I’m open to suggestions, but I like Dungeoneer’s best so far:
Tweed jacket, flat cap, and my old briarwood pipe. If that doesn’t say “dyke” what would?
John is mistreating me on LJ.
Lee has just sent me another long list of innuendoes about my anatomy, which bugs the hell out of me. He’s an odd situation and a long story. The last time I saw him face to face was in ’95. We had a huge quarrel and I threatened to whomp him with my weapon of choice. Lee stands about six foot three inches and is just plain huge. A few years ago I started getting strange email messages from someone who knew entirely too much about me. I eventually emailed back ‘Who the hell are you?” and I got a sheepish reply “It’s Lee. I was afraid you were still angry at me.” Since then he has been incorrigible. He’s an unmedicated bi-polar. The meds for his type of bi-polar tend to interact badly with the meds he is on for his diabetes. When he’s on the manic end of his swing, I get the risque emails and when he is at the bottom, I get whiny pleas to move back to California.
Eric has called to beg me to move to California and live with him for the umpteenth time this year. As always, I informed him that he should have asked me ten years ago instead of being wishy-washy at the time If he had gotten his shit together then, i would probably have never left California. Out of all of them, Eric is my favorite and always has been.
I seem to have finally managed to frighten Bill off and hope that holds for a while.
There are two others from my past harassing me, but they’re rather boring about it.