Jason, Nautica 'Get Their Stalk On'

Well once again the pick up artists formerly known as Jason and Nautica (okay they are still known by those names) managed to infiltrate the weekend.

Jason's stalking program kicked off on Friday night, or more specifically Saturday morning. At 5.30am. I woke up at around 6am with a terrible (physical) pain in my stomach and little was I to know that soon that physical pain in the gut was going to be joined by a metaphorical one. Yes, I checked my phone and Jason had called half an hour before and left a voice mail message. Nothing profound, just some loud music in the background and him droning my name down the phone line. Later that morning I discovered he had been stalking Miss Contradiction too. A few things:

1. Does he really think he is going to get a root out of someone at 5.30 in the morning, which clearly signals he is making the call because all other options have failed,
2. Why is he calling me at all because he will never, and I repeat never, get a root out of me (he was probably calling me in the hopes I was with Miss Contradiction and would encourage her to sleep with him. Yeah, whatever).

Saturday I got drunk and wandered up to the Oaks in the evening. When everyone else went home I was not ready to go as I was off my face so I ended up hanging around the hole for an hour or two staring at a wall. That is one of my favourite things to do when off my face. But I digress. On my way home at about 11.30pm, maybe midnight, I decided it would be a good time to start stalking random people with text messages. Now my phone doesn't store outgoing messages so I can't be sure of exactly what I wrote but from memory it was something about shoes and sex. Riveting stuff I'm sure.

One other thing my phone doesn't store anymore is people's names. Well it probably does but over the last six months I've become too lazy to do so. Basically I have a whole heap of numbers with no names attached. I rely on working out who the person is by the tone of their messages. So I was sending out random messages about shoes and sex to numbers and I have NFI who the owners of those numbers are. Probably not such a good idea in retrospect but... oh well.

Well actually I do know who owned one of the numbers. Nautica. I could tell because the next morning (I passed out about 30 seconds after writing the messages) I had seven - yes SEVEN - return text messages from Nautica. God he makes a fool of himself. He was writing all this pornographic shit to me about various body parts of mine and even some corny crap about me being a 'real woman'. Was there ever any doubt... I mean, did I ever try and pass myself off as a blow-up doll?? And isn't 'real woman' usually code for 'fat'??? Jesus Christ Nautica, way to make a gal feel special.

Thinking about Nautica actually makes me feel slightly ill. I wish he would accidentally set fire to his beard one night then be so distracted by the burning beard that he falls down a hole and gets stung by a bee.

I spent most of Sunday both vomiting and haemorrhaging and generally being sick and cranky. Probably wasn't such a good idea to binge drink on Saturday. Stupid Prednisone. Hope it starts working soon.

The end.