According to my nephew, there are pirates hanging out at Stately Wayne Manor in the woods. He and Mom routinely pick up trash . . . a Z. anti-squiggle technique and Z. found an empty rum bottle . . . and made the logical eight-year-old conclusion that there must be pirates. He later found a beer bottle and a paper cup, which only confirmed his suspicions. There are pirates in my parents' backyard. I can't wait to meet them.
Remember the guy that emailed me and told me about all the sites I am on and all my usernames? And I was creeped out and didn't respond to him? Well, four more emails from him later . . . and he is getting mean. And I don't know what to do about it. So I'm sitting here thinking about continuing with the current path of not responding, or responding with a short "get bent", or responding with why I didn't respond in the first place. Having a death spiral over someone I have no desire to talk to . . . yeah! My brain is so fun. Any suggestions? Just don't make them mean . . . I can't take any more mean.
Tomorrow is stuff and things for real . . . and I'm not ready, in any capacity. What was my mantra again? "Not my problem" and "Patience". Okay. Got it.
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3 comments:
You should turn off this 'comment' feature until you know that the mean guy won't use it to publish mean comments (since he's such a geek he might be able to find your blog site).
Stalker man won't find this site . . . and if he does, I'll deal with it then, not now. I like comments.
But I am totally okay with the advice of not feeding the animals. Shall choose it for now.
And if it gets ugly, I can round up the Pirates and they can threaten him with paper cups and rum bottles!
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