Do I just date sociopaths? You know, those that lack a sense of personal responsibility and morality, have a total lack of remorse for their actions, are impulsive, manipulative, reckless, quarrelsome and consistent liars? The reason I ask is because I recently got an email from Goodie, a knob end I dated way back in my early twenties. It was in response to a request I had sent him, about a year ago. The request was:
From: "Tequila Mockingbird"
To: “goodie”Subject:
RE: Goodie has Tagged you! :)
Date: Mon, 16 Jul 2007 14:11:32 +0000
Hi,
Please can you take my name off these things?
Regards,
Tequila
The ‘things’ I wanted to be taken off were the endless social networking sites and on line communities that he was signing up to which, because I was in his address book meant that I was bombarded with junk emails. Je déteste junk emails. All of these on line communities and IM services drive me insane and I just don’t get it. The whole thing is ridiculous, letting complete strangers have your phone number, email address and vital statistics? Letting your every last move be monitored by anyone and everyone, and those scary ex boyfriends that you really don’t want to know you are still alive, let alone getting on with your life without them thank you very much.*
However, more importantly, I didn’t want to accept his friend requests because this guy was an absolute cunt to me when we were together. The last contact we had was when I got home one day to find he had virtually emptied out my flat and set off into the sunset, after repeatedly cheating on me for nigh on eight months and sinking me literally thousands of pounds into debt. He was a pathological liar who really screwed my head up in a whole host of ways including manipulating me into thinking that his cheating was all in my head,regardless of the unquestionable evidence. He even went as far as to offer to go and see a shrink with me, you know, to sort out my 'trust' issues. Even when he gave me crabs, and insisted it was scabies, but still had me use the crabs lotion he had me thinking I was imagining it. He ran up HUGE phonebills ( which he left me to pay) on chat lines, that he was using to meet the men he was cheating on me with. We had not spoken since he'd done his midnight flit almost seven years ago and now he had the absolute unmitigated panooge to include me as a friend on the abundance of networking sites he was signing up for?? Clearly, not an ounce of shame.
His email said, and this is the actual text:
Mr!! im shocked !!! you dont know who i am do u ??? well you should seein as we spent nearly 2 years together natalie’s been telling me all about you glad your ok and doin better then me lol ive jus split up wid mine so livin in lpool now you will have to come visit its a rite good laugh nice to hear from ya even tho it was to say bugger off sent ya a pic as well love and kisses goodie **
I shall translate for those who speak English. This boil on the butt of humanity thought I had asked to be taken off his list, because I had forgotten who he was, and he was shocked. In his warped mind, the eight months we had spent together had now become two years, and he’d heard from someone we both knew that I was doing well. He had split up with his boyfriend, (I’m hazarding a guess there was infidelity on Goodies part) and he wanted me to go visit him in Liverpool. And he had sent me a picture. His email had outraged me, but when I clicked on the attachment, I nearly fell off my chair.
It was him, in his underwear. I presume to show me what I had been missing these seven years. Well, dear readers, all it did, was make me want to put hooks in my cheeks and fly myself off Canary Wharf. I have no idea what I ever saw in him. I used to think of him as sexy and incredibly handsome with a nice body. He was none of the things I thought he was. What the hell was I thinking? Love is not only blind; it’s for crazy people I tell you. You see that crazy bag lady on the street having an argument with herself and you’re seeing me. You hear that neighbour screaming at the voices in his head to all get along, and you’re hearing me. You watch Bette Davis in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane and you’re watching me.
The thing which really annoyed me about the whole thing, was that he was only contacting me now because he’d split up with another one of his victims, whose vulnerable heart he no doubt would have preyed and trampled on. No mention of all the shit he put me through, no apology for the lies, the infidelities and the money he owed me. Nada. This email seemed like we were long lost pals.
I cannot believe the sheer effrontery of it all. You just could not make this stuff up. What the hell did he expect me to do? Email him back and say how happy I was to hear from him and the picture had got me all aquiver? Well I did email back. I said:
Goodie,
I do know who you are. Please stop sending me these things.
T
He’ll respond to that in a year undoubtedly. Please God don’t let the email have a picture attached.
*I have a facebook account, I admit, but my account is set to private, and ONLY my friends & family and some colleagues are on my account.
**Now before my darling Big Sis flies over from the US to kill me for the bad spelling and complete lack of grammar, I would like to point out, that I have simply copied and pasted the email in question. Big sis my love, In a Word document, it was one WHOLE big red squiggly line. xx
Friday, August 15, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
When a stranger emails
A friend of mine, Telstar emailed recently saying ‘we have a new best friend’ which had me intrigued and chomping at the bit to find out more. However, my eagerness soon turned to dread. Turns out he had been in communication with a chap that reads his blog religiously and they had been emailing each other for a few weeks. This guy, Just Justin, seemed to think that Telstar and I were the kind of Mo’s that you really want to be associated with and had made the very brave move of asking if we would meet him for a drink. Telstar obviously has mentioned some of our exploits via his emails, and he seemed keen on meeting, then raping and murdering us:
“I would actually really like to meet you and Tequila. You talk about him with such affection; it would be lovely to meet you both. Tell you what, I’m returning to London tomorrow. I'll leave you my mobile number so just text/call me when you want to meet (or whenever you wish!). Maybe you could send me a text so I could have yours? Or am I being too forward? (I am a complete stranger after all!)
I look forward to meeting you and Tequila in due course.”
Now, immediately I thought what a dreadful idea this would be. I have been contacted by many young lovelies asking to go out for a drink via my blog, but unlike Telstar, I’m not desperate, and also, do not have a death wish. I once met someone via a rather awful social networking site years ago, who on first impressions seemed like a normal kind of guy. Time showed that the face he had initially showed and the hand that he had dealt me could not have been further from who, or what he was. To this day he remains one of the most unhinged, manipulative, vengeful and self serving people I have ever met. And last year I met Madonna. So to say that I am loathe meeting strangers in an understatement. If it’s done via the internet, I’m sorry, but something aint right. As far as I was concerned, Just Justin was a little bit odd, and there was no way I was going to take part in any of this. As I always say, if your genitals are on the outside, you’re hiding something on the inside.
However, my good friend Telstar is single, and horny as hell, and he obviously wanted to meet up with this guy in the hope of getting some tail. Trouble being, he can be shy at times, and would only go if I would. I was caught between a rock and a gay place, so I racked my rack, and decided that in the true spirit of sisterhood, I had a responsibility for my flailing queerling of a friend, and agreed to go. It was time to Gay it Forward.
I roped Charles into coming along, incase Telstar & Just Justin hit it off, and left me high and dry looking like the local loon in the corner. We all met at about 5pm at The Y for a much needed debrief and some Dutch courage. We had arranged to meet with Just Justin at 7pm so had two hours to prepare ourselves.
Now, Telstar, poor sweet simple fool that he is, had not got a description of this guy, so we had no idea what we were on the lookout for. Honestly, didn’t even get a hair colour or ask what he would be wearing. I mean, that’s gay 101. This meant that Just Justin could be anybody. We would literally be looking for a needle in a gaystack.
By the time 7pm was approaching, we were on our 4th drink, feeling no pain and starting to get quite excited about meeting this chap. Even I had jumped on board the Just Justin Express. Every time a hot guy walked in the bar, we all silently prayed that this was our man. If a mutant guy walked into the bar, we’d all face the floor say nothing to each other and pray that if this were our man, he would spot that we are far too decent for him to associate with, and scuttle off out of our lives forever.
By 7:30, the bar was packed, but Just Justin was nowhere to be seen. It was starting to look like Telstar had been stood up. And by proxy, so had I. This did not bode well. ‘Do you think he came, took one look at you and then left’ I asked Telstar. ‘Well, now I do’ he screeched. Charles began laughing hysterically and saying ‘Tragic much? you two have been stood up by a guy you don’t even know’. I said ‘What’s to say it isn’t you he didn’t like the look of, sister’ which brought that one crashing back down to earth with a well needed thud.
As I was well on the way to drunkville, I kept shouting ‘JUSTIN!’ which had people looking at me like I was on a day trip from Bedlam. We then proceeded to tear Just Justin apart for having stood us up, and our tongues were acid sharp. ‘The blokes a cunt. A cardboard cut out cunt. If he turns up now, I’ll turf my drink in his face’ I proclaimed with Charles offering ‘I can’t believe we’ve been stood up, there’s nothing wrong with us. Probably an ugly bastard with pores you can see from space’ and Telstar crying ‘But we’re decent. Why didn’t show. He’d be lucky to have mates like us, the cunt. Someone’s got some hang up phonecalls coming their way’. And so on and so forth. We then proceeded to do what we always do, makes fun of everyone in the bar, just out of earshot and stand there cackling like the Bitches of Eastwick.
By 8pm, I was demanding that Telstar hand me over his phone so I could send a text to Just Justin telling him what I thought of him. I was like a homo with a bone, but he refused. Even tried to get the phone out of his pocket but to no avail. It was all getting quite dramatic, with even Charles screaming foul play. All this over a man we had never even met. By this point Just Justin had been truly vilified and used as fodder.
We went for some Sushi, to line the stomach for even more boozing, and a text came through to Telstar. ‘You were the guy in the plaid shirt, right? You didn’t see me,I was there from just after 7’. ‘We have to go back and meet him I said he’s come to meet us and we owe him at least one drink’. Which they both vetoed saying we owed him nothing, So I started kicking off and getting incensed saying that we would go to hell for being so awful, and that it would be really bad taste to ignore him now he’d made contact and how sorry I felt for him. ‘Text him back NOW’ I yelled.
‘Where were you, why didn’t you come up to us?’ said Telstar’s text. I was starting to throw a BF (Bitch fit) because I thought we should go back, but those two would just not cooperate. I guess I felt bad that we’d all been slagging him off for not showing and he actually had, but might have been too shy to come up to three queens who were pissed and hurling abuse. Not exactly the most approachable look eh? But at least I was trying to do the good thing and rectify the situation.
However, when Just Justin replied with ‘I was the guy standing behind you all night,sorry, I was too shy, next time?’ my morality kind of went out the window. The guy that was stood behind us was a dwarf with a sty, and homo just won’t play that. A cretin, a monster, a veritable gremlin. And one, that had been giving me the glad eye for about an hour at that. But what was even worse, was the fact that he had stood behind us and heard what hateful things we had been saying. I mean, based on how he looked, he deserved it, to be sure, but still, we all found it a bit creepy that he knew who we were, and didn’t just come and say hi, but chose instead, to stand behind us and eavesdrop on our entire conversation. It was all very ‘The call is coming from inside the house’ if you ask me. It felt like he had the upper hand, and none of us were impressed.
So, the bad news is that we all got exposed for being the acid tongued queens that we are for tearing Just Justin apart limp wrist, by limp wrist.
The good news is that none of us wanted to fuck him, so all in all, it was a pretty successful experiment.
“I would actually really like to meet you and Tequila. You talk about him with such affection; it would be lovely to meet you both. Tell you what, I’m returning to London tomorrow. I'll leave you my mobile number so just text/call me when you want to meet (or whenever you wish!). Maybe you could send me a text so I could have yours? Or am I being too forward? (I am a complete stranger after all!)
I look forward to meeting you and Tequila in due course.”
Now, immediately I thought what a dreadful idea this would be. I have been contacted by many young lovelies asking to go out for a drink via my blog, but unlike Telstar, I’m not desperate, and also, do not have a death wish. I once met someone via a rather awful social networking site years ago, who on first impressions seemed like a normal kind of guy. Time showed that the face he had initially showed and the hand that he had dealt me could not have been further from who, or what he was. To this day he remains one of the most unhinged, manipulative, vengeful and self serving people I have ever met. And last year I met Madonna. So to say that I am loathe meeting strangers in an understatement. If it’s done via the internet, I’m sorry, but something aint right. As far as I was concerned, Just Justin was a little bit odd, and there was no way I was going to take part in any of this. As I always say, if your genitals are on the outside, you’re hiding something on the inside.
However, my good friend Telstar is single, and horny as hell, and he obviously wanted to meet up with this guy in the hope of getting some tail. Trouble being, he can be shy at times, and would only go if I would. I was caught between a rock and a gay place, so I racked my rack, and decided that in the true spirit of sisterhood, I had a responsibility for my flailing queerling of a friend, and agreed to go. It was time to Gay it Forward.
I roped Charles into coming along, incase Telstar & Just Justin hit it off, and left me high and dry looking like the local loon in the corner. We all met at about 5pm at The Y for a much needed debrief and some Dutch courage. We had arranged to meet with Just Justin at 7pm so had two hours to prepare ourselves.
Now, Telstar, poor sweet simple fool that he is, had not got a description of this guy, so we had no idea what we were on the lookout for. Honestly, didn’t even get a hair colour or ask what he would be wearing. I mean, that’s gay 101. This meant that Just Justin could be anybody. We would literally be looking for a needle in a gaystack.
By the time 7pm was approaching, we were on our 4th drink, feeling no pain and starting to get quite excited about meeting this chap. Even I had jumped on board the Just Justin Express. Every time a hot guy walked in the bar, we all silently prayed that this was our man. If a mutant guy walked into the bar, we’d all face the floor say nothing to each other and pray that if this were our man, he would spot that we are far too decent for him to associate with, and scuttle off out of our lives forever.
By 7:30, the bar was packed, but Just Justin was nowhere to be seen. It was starting to look like Telstar had been stood up. And by proxy, so had I. This did not bode well. ‘Do you think he came, took one look at you and then left’ I asked Telstar. ‘Well, now I do’ he screeched. Charles began laughing hysterically and saying ‘Tragic much? you two have been stood up by a guy you don’t even know’. I said ‘What’s to say it isn’t you he didn’t like the look of, sister’ which brought that one crashing back down to earth with a well needed thud.
As I was well on the way to drunkville, I kept shouting ‘JUSTIN!’ which had people looking at me like I was on a day trip from Bedlam. We then proceeded to tear Just Justin apart for having stood us up, and our tongues were acid sharp. ‘The blokes a cunt. A cardboard cut out cunt. If he turns up now, I’ll turf my drink in his face’ I proclaimed with Charles offering ‘I can’t believe we’ve been stood up, there’s nothing wrong with us. Probably an ugly bastard with pores you can see from space’ and Telstar crying ‘But we’re decent. Why didn’t show. He’d be lucky to have mates like us, the cunt. Someone’s got some hang up phonecalls coming their way’. And so on and so forth. We then proceeded to do what we always do, makes fun of everyone in the bar, just out of earshot and stand there cackling like the Bitches of Eastwick.
By 8pm, I was demanding that Telstar hand me over his phone so I could send a text to Just Justin telling him what I thought of him. I was like a homo with a bone, but he refused. Even tried to get the phone out of his pocket but to no avail. It was all getting quite dramatic, with even Charles screaming foul play. All this over a man we had never even met. By this point Just Justin had been truly vilified and used as fodder.
We went for some Sushi, to line the stomach for even more boozing, and a text came through to Telstar. ‘You were the guy in the plaid shirt, right? You didn’t see me,I was there from just after 7’. ‘We have to go back and meet him I said he’s come to meet us and we owe him at least one drink’. Which they both vetoed saying we owed him nothing, So I started kicking off and getting incensed saying that we would go to hell for being so awful, and that it would be really bad taste to ignore him now he’d made contact and how sorry I felt for him. ‘Text him back NOW’ I yelled.
‘Where were you, why didn’t you come up to us?’ said Telstar’s text. I was starting to throw a BF (Bitch fit) because I thought we should go back, but those two would just not cooperate. I guess I felt bad that we’d all been slagging him off for not showing and he actually had, but might have been too shy to come up to three queens who were pissed and hurling abuse. Not exactly the most approachable look eh? But at least I was trying to do the good thing and rectify the situation.
However, when Just Justin replied with ‘I was the guy standing behind you all night,sorry, I was too shy, next time?’ my morality kind of went out the window. The guy that was stood behind us was a dwarf with a sty, and homo just won’t play that. A cretin, a monster, a veritable gremlin. And one, that had been giving me the glad eye for about an hour at that. But what was even worse, was the fact that he had stood behind us and heard what hateful things we had been saying. I mean, based on how he looked, he deserved it, to be sure, but still, we all found it a bit creepy that he knew who we were, and didn’t just come and say hi, but chose instead, to stand behind us and eavesdrop on our entire conversation. It was all very ‘The call is coming from inside the house’ if you ask me. It felt like he had the upper hand, and none of us were impressed.
So, the bad news is that we all got exposed for being the acid tongued queens that we are for tearing Just Justin apart limp wrist, by limp wrist.
The good news is that none of us wanted to fuck him, so all in all, it was a pretty successful experiment.
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