blowing and oversharing

I feel like a damned peeping tom, but I can’t help but read When it claims to be “a blog for oversharing”, it isn’t lying. Today I found myself reading about her trip to Europe and how she “blew the bus driver” that was chauffeuring her and her grandmother’s tour group around France. I’m just hoping that she’s not a real woman, but a work of fiction. That, somehow, makes me feel less pathetic.

Do bus drivers get blown? That never would have crossed my mind in a million years.

interview with a stalker

This is the guy who wants to meet me and do an interview. He wrote back today.

Have no fear. Literally. I’m more afraid of you than you are of me. In fact, corresponding with you at all has freaked me out. I’m afraid of saying the wrong thing and scaring you away. You’re one of the celebrities of the zine scene, you know. I thought people like that were a bit more untouchable. If anyone runs away in the middle of the interview, it’ll be me.

I’m about 90% sure that, if I go to meet him, I’m going to get my skull kicked in. I must have written a nasty letter to him years ago or something. How could this guy be serious? Did you see the part where he said that he thought that I was an “untouchable celebrity.” You just know that this guy is laughing his ass off somewhere making this shit up, trying to coax me out of my little shell by stroking my ego. The sad thing is, it’s fucking working. I’m going to walk into my deathtrap whistling, without a care in the world.

OK, as if that isn’t enough, the guy sent me a headless-topless photo of a woman, who I assume is his girlfriend, holding an “I Love Mark Maynard” sign. Could it be that he’s so much a fan of my writing that he’s offering me his wife? The thought terrifies me.

So, my question to all of you is this; Do you smell a rat? Is this trap a little too well-baited? I’m not a guy that’s used to topless girls and compliments. And I don’t think I’m going to fall for this. This kind of thing might work on Salinger, but not on Mark Maynard.

Ridiculous compliments, a topless coed, and, as he mentioned in the last letter, he might even be related. That’s like baiting a mousetrap with a filet mignon.

(And, if I do decide to do this interview, please don’t try to prove or disprove the theory that I am “untouchable.” The minute I’m touched, I’m gone faster than a blood-covered OJ.)

haunted house

I forgot to print this the other day. It’s something that I came across at that site we shared the guestbook with for a little while.

Hello everyone. Friday I went to “A Trip to Hell”. It’s a journey through the woods with various drama skits showing how the devil can pull people to death and hell, trough such things as drunk driving, abortion, using those who we trust most to harm others, and so on. It was excellent. One of my favorite ones was called the Room of Confusion. It was quite frightening. The room was set up to show what hell would be like if you chose the devil’s path. Anyways, it was started with the goal to bring more people to Christ. It has been going on for 8 years now and brought around 1,000 people to Christ last

For those of you that didn’t get ther reference, “Room of Confusion” was a Phil Collins song in the early 1980’s. And, to me, that sounds like the scariest thing in this haunted house. If I went thought it, I wouldn’t go to Christ, unless he was the guy in charge of refunds.

I read through this a few times substituting “Crimewave” for “Christ” and it makes it more interesting. I’d like to think that by showing people images of the devil lurking around an abortion clinic that they would go running out into the lobby to buy issues of my magazine.

OK, I just got done with a big public speaking thing for work. I wanted to talk about it over the past few days, but I didn’t want to bring it up and have you people asking me about it and making me even more nervous. But it’s over now and the world’s still turning. So, now, I’m going to head out to the bar with Tubbs (I’ll have to tell you about Tubbs sometime) to have a celebratory beer. I’ll try to write about it tomorrow.

Goodnight moon. Hello beer special.

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