Tuesday, February 24, 2009

I made you a painting. I call it "Celebration." It's sexual and violent. I thought you might like it.

I have obtained a not-so-secret admirerer to a creepy extreme. His name is Erik With A 'K,' and I have recently become certain that he is not well.

For months and months I have been getting random texts and late nite phone calls from a number I don't know. The first time I asked for his identity, I discovered it was a black guy from South Carolina who I gave my number to in Vegas. And frankly, the only reason I GAVE him my number, was because my goal was to make out with a black guy in Vegas that weekend. (You wish that was a joke, but you know that it's not.)

I thought it was weird that he had any desire to contact me when he lived in a state I'll never visit and can't name the capital of, but I let it slide.

More recently, I've received incessant texts and some calls (with only heavy breathing on the voicemail) from what I thought was the same number, and JUST discovered that this freak is not from South Carolina, not black, and not sane. In reality, the kid is a creepo from a bar in Austin who I gave MY number, in an attempt to get him to stop bugging another girl for HERS.

There isn't an ounce of logic in this story. I'm well aware.

And that pretty much sums up the writing I'll do for this post, because below, you're about to see a succession of the favorite text messages that would make my balls crawl up into my stomach cavity if I had any. (Balls that is. Was that clear?)


Note: Pretty much NONE of these original texts were sent with ANY response from ME...they just...kept...coming.....

"This is me and my cat Sam. Short for Samson."

("He goes under furniture sometimes. He thinks he's a cave cat.")

"I took this pic myself. Is good yes?"

"I own a Dodge Neon..and the road."

"This is my other cat Darto. Long for Dart. He is fast!"

And finally....

"Apainting I did of Adam and Eve."

Now...raise your hand if you're scared for me!