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I know how much you love the hate mail, this isn't that, sorry. I wanted to thank you for making me laugh -cackle like a mad-scientist in fact- at the Rick James shirt. From January till he turned psychopath in April, I dated this guy named Harlan, a cowboy. I'm from NY originally but moved to Houston cuz it seemed like a good idea at the time. Harlan was the third boyfriend I'd ever had cuz I was with my "high school sweetheart" for 6 years, first kiss first fuck etc, and left him pretty much cuz he wouldn't stop shooting up, or I couldn't stop shooting up being with him, so I got to Texas very naive about dating and men in general and didn't see the signs that Harlan would turn into a woman-beater until he relapsed on crack (who knew?) stole $500 from me, and THEN kicked my ass when I asked for my money back. I really liked him though, until that day, it was perfect until that day. I'd get off work at 10pm, show up with food, he'd have one of his tampon-sized joints waiting for me, we'd watch Chapelle show reruns, play some Tony Hawk Underground elbowing one another to make the other fuck up, real cute-like ya know, then we'd fuck like crazy, like it wasnt even sex, it was a train wreck or construction site, he called it The General, five stars indeed, like that Beastie Boys lyric "I did her like this, did her like that, did her with a wiffleball bat" Sex with Harlan was almost worth his boot on my ribs, stepping down until they gave... breaking three of them while making eye contact with me, and me saying shit like "Bring it on, I got plenty more ribs!" and "You hit like a girl" the whole time, very reminiscent of Arquette vs Gandolfini in True Romance. Anyway, the sex was umm, pretty good. So seeing that shirt made me remember all that yummy dirtiness, and THEN you go on to talk of masturbating! Oh rock on, whoever you are!

I linked the shirt to my diary, I got some "regular" readers. Also quoted some of the newsletter, telling them they should sign up for it, cuz it's a good read n all, and if they can stand a sick fuck like me then they'd enjoy your shit as well. I don't believe in copyright, but I do believe in telling people "hey I stole your shit" especially by sending them polaroids of me doing heinous things with said stolen shit, so a link to my diary is as close to a polaroid as I can get ya, polaroid film is way too expensive but maybe one of these days I'll end up in your Whore section. http://phatgrrl.diaryland.com

Thanks again,

Joey (which is my REAL name, mom named me after Joey Heatherton --ahh it's all starting to make sense now isn't it?)

Always remember to quit while you're ahead.

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