FBI - first botting incident

The dangers of fanta

Lonely, bored and sober what a combination. I decided to go visit Lamb.

Although no longer lonely we were two very bored girls who had just consumed 2.25L of Fanta, nothing good could come of this. I don’t know how it happened, all I know is that Lamb and I should be supervised at all times.

We found entertainment stalking people on Facebook. First stop, my future boyfriends profile. Lamb started to pressure me into changing my relationship status to married and requesting him as my husband. I was just about to send the request when I had second thoughts. No! I was serious about this guy and this was all kinds of bad. It was now up to Lamb to Facebook marry someone, anyone. It had to be someone that knew we’re creeps. It had to be someone that could take a joke. Most of all it had to be someone that if they didn’t realise we’re creeps and couldn’t take a joke we wouldn’t shed a tear over the lost friendship.

Guido fitted all of the above. It was no secret he had a crush on Lamb, this would be all his dreams come true. It didn’t take much to convince Lamb that this was a great idea. The request was sent. For ultimate creep value she also took on his last name. It didn’t end there. Next on the agenda was the photo shoot.

I rifled through Lambs wardrobe for the perfect bridesmaid dress. There it was, right at the back. It was truly stunning. It was a deep shade of red, a striking little number. I tried it on. It was the perfect fit. The colour was very complimentary to my skin tone and eyes. Lamb looked like an angel in white.

The photos were uploaded. We rocked back and forward in anticipation of Guido logging in to find the request. Five minutes had passed, we couldn’t take it much longer. Finally an hour later he had accepted the request. Lambs inbox started to swell with emails. Little did we know we had weaved quite the love pentagon…

Letters to Oprah

It was him!

He had stalked me and requested my friendship. If this wasn’t true love I don’t know what is.

The instant I had accepted the request we were chatting. We quickly bond over our hatred of cats. Little does he know, my hate stems from the fact that earlier in the year I contracted ringworm from my flatmates kitten.  On my Face!

Turns out we both have crazy cat lady flatmates.  I win, mine has pet insurance. He has never heard of pet insurance so I fill him in on the details. He decides that if his flatmate won’t insure her cat then he will, because that is the responsible thing to do. That’s when we decide that we need to spread the word about this magnificent insurance. We were a team; our first step would be to inform Oprah. This would be the fastest and most effective way to notify people around the world of the importance of pet insurance.

He compiled his research on different stats, while I looked into various insurance plans. Not only were there medical plans but funeral as well! A funeral plan enables you to send your pet off in style. No longer do you need to worry about finding the money for the flowers or catering this was all covered. I liked what I read.

I left him with the task of writing to Oprah.

Dear Oprah,

Just to start I’d like to say thank you for the years of liveliness your show has brought to me, I may only be 22 but the advice you have given me has brought much joy to me and my family.

I know how much of an animal lover you are, and I share this passion with you.
Before I start I would like to make it very clear I am not from any company and have no ties with any insurance provider.

I have recently heard about Pet insurance, which I will say, at first I thought what a waste of the already struggling every day family’s money, but I was shocked when I found out what it could and does prevent every day all around the world.

Millions of cats and dogs are put to sleep each year due to injuries that could be fixed if only the family could afford the vet bills, and yes a lot of pet owners are at fault but with the knowledge i  have millions of these pets could be saved.

After my beloved cat was put down due to a broken hind left femur (which was fixable, had we had money at the time), I looked upon vets with a hateful passion.

I’m going off subject here Big O, but the jist of it is Pet insurance saves animal lives. Anyway you look at it, it’s a small price to pay to keep your furry baby’s in good health.

Thank you for your time Oprah and please keep making that great show we all love.

God bless

After reading this, I wanted him. I wanted him bad but he was away for a whole week. That’s when I found other forms of entertainment…

One new friend request

“U ditched us!”

I didn’t recognise the number; it could only be from that guy. I could not have my future boyfriend thinking I had ditched him. My drunken texting is never any good so I had to concentrate really hard to push the right buttons. Finally I reply with minimal error.

“Itr5am we r tired. Txt me nwt time ur out wul3d love 2meet up.gdnight x”

His next text informs me he is away until the following Sunday. Tagged on the end was, “I’ll be surprised if I hear from you again.”

Not wanting to give away my desperation, I leave it at that and drift off to sleep.

I woke up with a hangover way worse than all my relationships. Beef was two hours late to work but it was all in the name of a good night.

Later that evening after much debate I decide to send my future boyfriend a text. It’s not like I had anything to lose. I casually ask him if he was hung over much.

Fuck! One hour later and still no reply. I’m on edge trying to play it cool; I can’t have Beef knowing I am incessantly checking my phone. Pppppffffttt nothing to lose - yeah right, this was soul destroying. I give up. I can’t even stalk him on Facebook as I can’t recall his first name, let alone his last. On that note I decide to log into the book anyway. That’s when I see the pending friend request…

Leap Frog Lesbians

We awkwardly accept their offer. Whilst patiently waiting for the band to start we casually exchange information. He is 22 years old only a year younger than me. Not bad, but ideally I was looking for much younger.

The band starts performing classic rock hits. And I bust out my sweetest moves.

As the night winds down and the bar empties out we relocate to the balcony. I don’t know if it’s the many beverages I have consumed but this guy is pure comedy. I am charmed by his offensive wit.

That’s when we spy T-pain. I knew it wasn’t really T-pain just a black guy with dreads but nevertheless this guy has me convinced to go ask if his name was T-pain. As expected from me I stumble over there and the words slur from my mouth. Luckily he doesn’t comprehend or else I suspect I would have been thrown off that balcony.

It is now approximately 4am and Beef informs me she has work at 7.30am and needs to leave immediately. We head down the stairs to the taxi stand the boys follow. I want his number but I am far too shy to ask for it. I devise a flawless plan with Beef. I will pretend to be busy flagging down a cab while she acquires his number. He doesn’t know his number and instead procures mine.

Just as we are climbing in the taxi his friend mutters his first words to us “Do you guys want to go to the casino?” I look at Beef with pleading eyes nobody can refuse these bambi’s. We hop out of the taxi and begin our cross country to the casino. The journey is interesting along the way we encounter three dykes playing leapfrog down Colombo Street. Not the attractive lesbians guys tend to fantasise about but the chubby kind with lesbian haircuts.

We reach the casino. Security is at odds as to whether they should let us in. We are all relatively intoxicated but they choose to let us in with a promise of hot chocolate. The four of us scale the stairs in search of this delicious hot beverage but to no avail. Disappointed I decide it’s time for home. I tell the boys I am off. I don’t think they hear me but I’m not bothered. Beef and I casually slip off into the night.

I had no expectations of hearing from him again but just as I was getting into bed I receive a text…

The weather was getting colder and I was in dire need of a winter boyfriend. My sidekick Beef and I were in a boy drought. Tonight was the night. We made a pact to go out and meet new guys anyone is a potential. I was feeling sexy; I had squeezed myself into a new pair of black skinny leg jeans and was stumbling around in heels too high for me to walk in. 

After guzzling down two bottles of economical priced wine I was well equipped for the night ahead. The next hurdle was finding a taxi company that would roll up to the house. Past episodes had not been so successful

 Note: offering the driver to touch your dick is not the way to get a free ride to town but that is whole different story

Fortunately we had no trouble and a taxi arrived promptly. The journey is somewhat of a blur and the next thing I know I’m in Sol Square… it is the only acceptable place in Christchurch to be seen. We settle on Yellow Cross, they have a live band playing and the place is teeming with young chaps. It doesn’t take long to work out that all these guys are douche bags but for the time being I am having a blast. After a couple of hours of solid dancing I regret my choice of footwear my feet hurt and the red bull and vodkas are beginning to wear off. Beef and I retreat to the corner. Do decent guys really exist?

Before I could answer my own question out of the shadows appears two handsome lads “would you like to dance?”

My instant thought is fuck off but wait a minute I was out to meet my future winter boyfriend…

So here I am 7.30 on a Sunday morning lying in bed wondering why I am so desperate and dateless… Always the bridesmaid never the bride, the one before the one or the BFF when out of nowhere I hear  the unpleasant sound of that band The darkness “I believe in a thing called love / Just listen to the rhythm of my heart / There’s a chance we could make it now / We’ll be rocking till the sun goes down …”

It’s my cell phone alerting me that I have received a text. Naturally I waste no time and check it instantly

“Hey sexy what u doin?”

It’s my regular booty call he’s been constant for the past five years however living in different cities has made things slightly tricky. I am puzzled as to why he would text me at 7.33am asking me what I am doing. Any sane person would be sleeping but perhaps he knows I’m not sane. Without more ado I reply “nothing”. Within seconds he responds…

“thought we could have a bita txt sex”

I politely decline. After all I am too busy for this, the past two months have taken me on a wild ride of procrastination and I am now left with 3 days to write a 4000 word essay on international environmental law.