So I heard from my new friend again. She’s decided to take a new tact:
Glad to be of assistance. Someone needs to get your sorry ass through a day…considering you are much too inept to make it on your own. Only the most pathetic losers with no lives have blogs where they spend their entire day shitting on those who actually make something of their lives.
But please, by all means, fuck my memory straight in the ass b/c you can’t hurt me. I’m completely impervious to your ranting. However, I hope you will note this and it doesn’t even matter if you remember it, b/c when it happens, you will have full recall and that is all the gratification I need.
Some time down the road, in the not too distant future, my dear non-friend, you will be diagnosed with a terminal illness that will have no chance of recovery. You will find out that you have it when you go to the doctor after being sick for a very long time. It will start out as a cold and just never go away. After dealing with it for months you will notice you have lost a significant amount of weight and can’t hold down food. You’ll be shitting your brains out and puking your guts up. Wonderful description, eh? Sick of it all you will finally go to the doc and be told your diagnosis. Oh well…poor Les.
You will eventually, after a very long time of being miserably sick, die a rotting mess of a corpse. And very few, if any, will mourn your passing. This is not a voodoo curse. Laugh all you want, but I promise you it will happen exactly that way. And your atheist ass will be wondering as you lay in your bed waiting to die…“How could that bitch be so right?!” Well, Les, I have a secret to tell you…I’m able to see the future sometimes. And I saw yours before I ever knew what an asshole you were. Sometimes I get a payback when I don’t even realize that one is deserved!
So, in a few years, when you’ve long forgotten my sweet little ass, you will suddenly remember me as you wait to die. And I will also have a sudden memory of your sorry ass and I’ll be grinning ear to ear when you take your last croak of a breath!
Paybacks are a bitch, but, hey, somebody needs to have something good come from this life.
Be seeing ya around, bud!
I didn’t bother to clean up her formatting this time. As far as psychic predictions go this one is pretty weak. Here’s my reply:
- What? You can’t even manage to name what horrible disease will be my undoing? Surely you can do better than that. I’d expect you’d at least be able to give a reasonable time frame rather than the astoundingly vague “sometime down the road, in the not too distant future” but “in a few years after I’ve forgotten you.” No word on what hospital it’ll be? No word on what state I’m living in at the time? Some psychic you are.
For the record I have little doubt that I’ll die within the next 40 years. Cancer runs in my family and few of us make it through our 70’s. It’s not anything I worry about as it’s knowledge I’ve lived with for a long time. Already I’ve made a better prediction than you have. But you go ahead and dream your little fantasy if it makes you feel better. This email just adds more fuel to the blog. At least you didn’t say you were going to pray for me like so many others. That at least makes you a refreshing change of pace.