It's Not Technically Stalking If He's Just Being Stubborn, Officer.

Last year, a friend of mine (let’s call him Benny, because I’ve got an Elton John song in my head right now (which I kind of hate (but not as much as I hate using brackets within brackets))) and I had a bit of a misunderstanding.

You see, Benny is a sensitive soul, and I’m always right. As a result, I’m often hurting Benny’s feelings without meaning to, and then just assuming that it’s his fault.

Wow. I’m kind of an arsehole.

Anyway, one day I noticed that Benny had stopped talking to me, and it soon became clear that he was ignoring me altogether. I couldn’t remember anything specific I’d done to offend him, so I decided he was just being petty and that if I irritated him – and I mean really, sincerely annoyed the ever-lovin’ crap out of him – he would snap and respond.

I emailed him something new every day. I put quite a bit of effort into it, and thought I should share the highlights with you. So, on the off chance that you’re ever in exactly the same predicament, I present to you:


Perfecting The Art Of The Relentless Digital Harangue – A User’s Guide


Day One
Subject: New T-Shirt Slogan Idea


Might need some workshopping, but something snappy like:


NOBODY OVERREACTS, TAKES THINGS PERSONALLY AND GETS ON THEIR HIGH HORSE QUITE LIKE JO. AND BENNY. LIKE, EQUALLY. BOTH AS F*CKING BAD AS EACH OTHER.


Maybe with a picture. I'm thinking a table of unicorns playing poker.


-no response-




Day Two


Wow. WOW. Your irritating daily email rhymes today. You really hit the jackpot there.




I love to be ignored;
It stops me getting bored.
And when I’m bored I fall asleep,
Wake up, and find I’ve snored.

And to be overlooked?
My place in therapy is booked!
If my self esteem was toast
It would be well and truly cooked.

And oh! To be forsaken!
Irresistible as bacon.
Whilst I look like a fool,
You’re just a hero in the makin’.

I like being disregarded,
‘Cause it helps me be less guarded;
But sending emails daily
Makes me look a bit retarded.

-no response-

 Day Three


Hi, Benny.
Here's a picture I drew of a sad clown.
He's so sad he doesn't even want to play his ukulele.
So I didn't draw a ukulele.
Jo.

-no response-




Day Four
Hi, Benny.
This is what it would be like if I was dead.

-no response-



Day Five
(inspired by the ‘Posters By Craig’ thing that was the style at the time)

-no response-



Day Six


No, you don't get weekends off, I'm sorry.
It's 'lite' though, as I have better things to do today.
So here are my ten favourite fruits in random order:


Oranges
Strawberries
Kiwi Fruit, or Chinese Gooseberry
Grapes
Delicious Apples
Pineapple
Rockmelon
Peaches
Nashi Pears


-no response-



Day Seven


All the punctuation marks on my computer are below. It would be a totally freaky coincidence if they're the same as the ones on your computer.
`~!#$%^&*()_-++[{]}’}”;:/?.>,<@

-no response-



Day Eight


Hi, Benny.
Here’s me being the letter Q.

My fondest regards,
Jo.


-no response-



On the ninth day, I pretty much just saw Benny at the pub and we said hello to each other, and then we were friends again.


I think it's pretty clear what the moral to this story is:






I need a hobby.

.

Emails I May Never Send #20

Dear Lara Bingle,

That's my loofah.

Best,
Jo.

You May Remember Me From Such Episodes As Where The Hell Have You Been.

I've been a naughty, bad blogger. If I was a puppy, you'd have every right to rub my nose in it.
I'm still spastically in love with you, I've just been busier than a one-armed grandmother at a knitting bee.
Wait. That's not as rock n' roll an analogy as I'd actually like.
Busier than a one-armed ukulele player at a Tiptoe Through The Tu... forget it. Never mind. Busy, okay?
I have been slutting around a teensy bit, blogospherically, typo-fingerly and writey-writingly speaking, and some misguided fools have even been paying me to write stuff.*
But I promise I'll be back shortly, and I thank you both for being so patient.

In the meantime, I've decided I need a new excuse to drink and have opinions, because the other thirty or so excuses were getting a bit tired. Read about it here, and bring pretzels.

You're awesome and you smell amazing,
Jo.

*That was supposed to come across as humble. It felt weird, especially when what I meant to say was ABOUT TIME YOU REPAID MY CRANKY GENIUS WITH SOME COIN, BITCHES. Also, mama needs a new pair of shoes.