Posted on | March 19, 2008 | Comments Off
To the dear, depraved soul who believes my cell phone number belongs to some girl named “Mars” (living somewhere in Metro Manila):
I am not Mars. Mars tricked you. You asked her for her cell phone number and she rattled off appropriate digits at random. Unfortunately those digits matched mine. Likely, you sent her a text (that came to me) on the spot when she gave a number (just to be sure). I’m sad to report, she pressed a key to light up her phone to simulate a received message and then blew you completely off.
I do not love you, I don’t want to engage with protracted conversations with you, I don’t take your calls and I don’t reply to your texts. Sending me a text message saying I LOVE YOU only serves to get me in trouble with my wife.
You have continued to text “Mars” relentlessly without reply for several weeks. This should lend you (some) clue as to why she gave you a fictitious number to begin with, girls are smart. I know that girls are smart because I’m currently the father of one. Unfortunately, Mars got off freely while you (likely) paid her bar tab and I’m the one who gets stuck with her stalker.
I am a 6’2, 200 LB Caucasian with long hair. I fart often, make irritating noises with my throat, snore and (above all) enjoy the fact that I am heterosexual. I really, really hope that you read this post and realize the futility of further communication with the guy that you think is “Mars”.
Please, I emplore, try dating girls that you meet on-line. You don’t seem to care if a girl is actually female (as you have professed your unwaivering love to a 32 year old chubby guy-geek) .. you should feel right at home. In fact, I have created a new tag, just for you on my blog entitled “brain-dead-stalkers”.
Above all, kindly …
STOP TEXTING ME!