Border Security

November 28, 2007

The first impression is that there are no limits. All seems to be open and wild and free. You may roam where you will. If you step across an invisible barrier of any kind, it isn’t immediately obvious. You could probably cross that line a dozen times without being aware that it is there.

It does exist, though. Each time it is crossed, it becomes slightly more visible, gradually, only very gradually. It is as if the keeper of the border is almost infinitely patient. Almost. If you choose to spend time here, you need to watch carefully, keep an eye on that line that at first doesn’t even seem to exist. Eventually, if you keep walking over it in your ignorance and haste, it will become solid, and you may trip on it. Take that as your warning. The next time you trod carelessly toward it, you won’t be able to cross, you won’t even trip over it. You’ll find, quite suddenly, that it is a brick wall, unclimbable. You’ll see the ‘Keep Out’ sign. If you persist, if you push on the wall, you’ll realize it isn’t even only impassible. It’s an electric fence, and your stubborn insistence on trying to bypass it will only result in disaster for you.

Much better to stay on the outskirts, enjoy the appearance of freedom of access, and resign yourself to the fact that some places are just off limits to you.


Surrounded by twits…

November 25, 2007

Dear Clueless One,

Here’s a secret.

If you like me, if you want to impress me… learn to spell! It isn’t ‘luv’, it’s ‘love’. It isn’t ‘yr’, or ‘u’, or ‘r’… it’s ‘your’, ‘you’ and ‘are’. Punctuation is nice. Beginning sentences with an uppercase letter is fun. Give it a try.

Yours in frustration and disdain,


P.S. Referring to Yourself always with a capital letter doesn’t actually make You my Dom. Idiot.

Oh, FFS!

November 25, 2007

Dear Dingbat Magnet,

You’ve really done it now, haven’t you? As if the capslocking wasn’t enough, you may have succeeding in turning me completely dingbatty.  I don’t know if that’s what annoys me, or you have annoyed me.  No, it’s probably you.  It is always all about you, isn’t it?

I know, it’s so out of character, isn’t it?  I’m supposed to be all nice and rational and unemotional and mainly placid, with just occasional outbreaks of stroppiness.  And, you know, I generally am.  I defend to the death your right to do anything you like, and I enjoy the honesty.

But quite honestly, I just have to say this:

Fucking hell, that really was a step or ten WAY over the line.

No, wait, that wasn’t quite what I had to say.  I think maybe it was this:


(Yes, that was it)

Very much doubting the yours bit


And another thing…

November 23, 2007

Dear Mother and Daughter,

I’ve been having a lovely time flirting for the past few months.  But now you think he might do nicely for me.

Cheers.  He’s lost all his appeal now.


(daughter and mother)

And while we’re at it…

November 23, 2007

Dear Self-Centred Egotistical Pricks,

Get over yourselves.

Sincerely determined to remain free of you,


P.S.  You weren’t that good in the first place.

Dear Dingbats,

Where did I go wrong?  Having eradicated you from my life, what possessed me to get involved with men who are addicted to dingbats and TELL ME ABOUT THE FUCKING DINGBATS ALL THE FUCKING TIME?

It’s not easy being the only sane one, you know.  I have to keep capslocking all over the place to keep dingbat-fever at bay.  It’s very wearing.

Yours sincerely and sanely,


Dear Fuckwits,

Enough already.

Yours very sincerely, more sincerely than you can possibly imagine,


P.S. Fuck off.