They’re on to me
Posted on | December 21, 2007 | 1 Comment
I am no longer anonymous. Apparently, some of my mates are aware of my secret identity. They know I blog. I didn’t think that anyone knew except Mrs. Jimmy Page’s Trousers (and she’s never looked as she’s not really sure how to work the Internet). The jig is up and now I feel all self-conscious and exposed (like in those dreams where you go to school in your underwear).
It seems that one of them has, Neo-like, hacked the net or something and tracked me down. He obviously then shared this information with the others. And they’re here. Maybe even now. It feels weird. I don’t think I like it.
So, Doug, Jeff, Pete… fuck off you snooping cunts.
Comments
Gerry Hayes
I mostly sit around all day and drink tea. Occasionally, I write stuff and send it to strangers so they can humiliate me and deride my efforts. Other than the self-harm to dull the shame of failure, it's not a bad life. Like I say, there's tea.
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Fear not, Mister Trousers. Even as we speak, my associates are knocking on certain doors, and I have every confidence these miscreants will trouble you no more. For the fishes’ sake, I hope your friends don’t snore.
Call it my Christmas present to you.