My Farked Up Life!

Another week, another issue of The Cheers, another 7 days full of pain
and misery. Welcome back everyone! You didn't hope to hear from me
anymore, I bet. After my last week's confessions, you were probably
sure that I would end up in some lunatic asylum. Some place where they
would never let me out again. Sorry to disappoint you I'm still here.
Big as hell, twice as stupid.

I think it would be the best if
I started from the beginning. From the place where I left off last
week. To be more specific: if you don't have any problems, but you're
just one beautiful blonde horny bitch with long legs, then actually I
am too - let's become pen friends. Do you have a picture and a phone
number?

Independent of what you may think of me I actually
did receive two answers! That's good, right? Of course, it's good if
people read your column and contact you after that. Of course. Usually,
it really is. But how would you like to get an email which consists of
37.5 death threats from different people? You fuckers! Don't you have
anything better to do than just waste your time writing useless emails
that no one read one way or another? Why should I read something like
I'll take your penis, cut it in half and paint it blue or Have you
checked your car for bombs recently?or Shoot yourself or else (that
'else' was the 0.5 of 37.5). These threats are totally stupid, a waste
of time. Some of them even had spelling mistakes which I - I repeat I
had to correct. And the style still sucks. So if you feel that you
would like to learn, I'm here to help you. This way you can at least
learn how to write death threats. You Idiot.

Another person
who answered to my email seemed really horny, exactly like someone who
I hoped would contact me - a blonde horny bitch with long legs. And not
only. She also claimed to own a bee emm dablejuu and have a lot of free
time. What could I have against it? Well, yeah, she said she's probably
a year or two older than me, but why should that bother me, rather vice
versa. Agree? I do. Did I meet her? No. Her email sounded like the
dream of my life, it sounded like all my dreams had just come true. At
least, it was before I got to the phone number, which was
+445729....and some more numbers which I'm not gonna tell you. It was
my grandma.

Oh my GOD!!!

Gosh. It took me more than 5
minutes to get over it. ... plus 3 days to recover from the resulting
coma. It turned out that my girlfriend had been watching me the whole
time and she didn't really like what I was doing with my right hand
while reading the beginning of the horny email. So she just hit me with
a baseball bat.

Now here I am, laying in the hospital bed.
But I'm not alone. There's a lot of photographers and journalists from
other media ventures (mainly tabloids...though) keeping me company. All
wanting to get an interview from me - interview about me, my now
ex-girlfriend, her baseball bat and, of course, my grandma. It might
sound weird, but I believe that it's my 15 minutes of FAME. And I'm
gonna take the most of it. I'll give a press conference right after I
have finished with this stupid column.