divorcedlondon

Before anyone else says it, I’m going to say it first; I’m well overdue with a new post.

I’m always late! You could always apply for a refund.

Oh wait. You don’t pay me anything for this, do you?

If someone wanted to sponsor this blog; perhaps even become my benefactor, I would make it more of a priority. As of now, I haven’t made so much as a single pound from it, so blogging remains just a hobby.

Though it is just a hobby that I enjoy very much, it’s also a hobby without a set schedule. Anyway, the longer I make you all wait for it, the more you all want it and the better it is when I finally give it to you!

Since my last posting, I’ve been surprisingly busy and I do have a lot to share with you.

I’m a hero at the office in more ways than one; I managed to put one over on my email stalker with real style and I had some great sex as well as a narrow escape.

I’m feeling really good about nearly everything in my life at the moment and I know I should just sit back and enjoy it, but there has been one thing bothering me.

It’s been more than bothering me; it’s been nagging me day and (sleepless) night.

I’ve looked into DNA testing for my daughter.

I’m going to get it done as soon as I can, this coming weekend if I can get an appointment. I’m waiting to hear back from the testing lab to see if they can take the samples then.

My wife has asked me to take our daughter this weekend and I leapt at the chance. Not that I wouldn’t have anyway, but I’m hoping this will give me the opportunity to check and see if I’m really her father.

My wife is off on a hen weekend in Prague; one of her sister’s is getting married soon. I didn’t even know, so I guess I’m not invited on the big day. Pity, as it is the sister I’ve always been hot for!

DNA testing is not as straightforward as I thought it would be. I did my research online and a lot of these companies require the consent of both parents.

No way! I don’t want my wife to know I’m doing this.

Then I discovered if you search a bit further, there are other companies that will do the test without any of the bureaucracy of a two-parent consent requirement. They’ll even send a nurse to your home to take the samples and verify them, in case you require it for legal reasons.

I’m waiting to hear back from just such a firm, to see if they can send a nurse ‘round my flat this Saturday to take whatever they need. It’s just a swab from inside your cheek, so it’s nothing to worry about.

And once I get the results back, I’ll finally know one way or the other, whether or not I’m really her biological father.

Either way, I so very much need to know the truth. I can’t go on like this any longer.

Sometimes I just stare at her picture, the one my wife gave me for Christmas, looking at her face, trying to work out if she is my daughter.

As much as I search for a resemblance, I just can’t see any. Though you can tell she’s my wife’s daughter because there’s something very similar about their eyes.

If she is mine, then my concerns are put to rest once and for all and no one else is the wiser.

But if she’s not mine, well, that’s an entirely different story and I keep trying not to imagine its rather unhappy ending.

Enough! It’s a bridge I’ll cross if and when I need to and not before.

The MD cornered me last Friday and demanded I take him back to “my gentleman’s club”. He’d had a long liquid lunch and I must say he was quite jovial about it when he asked me.

He meant the lap-dancing club I took him to when I was interviewing for my job. He had such a good time that night that’s he’s been asking me regularly for a return visit.

I had other plans that evening, but couldn’t very well refuse, so I told him that a brief session was possible, before I had to disappear to meet a lady friend.

I wasn’t really in the mood for the club, as my other plans were far more appealing to me after a long, boring day in the office. I was supposed to meet Tanya, the women I met from the internet dating site.

We’d gone out the previous weekend and had a reasonably good time together, until Tanya abruptly fled my flat following some fantastic fellatio.

There wasn’t a chance for me to return the favour and I was looking forward to providing her with the full discreetlondon treatment that night.

The other reason spending a couple of hours in a noisy, smoky club really didn’t appeal to me, even one filled with scantily clad, willing women is that I spent most of Friday trapped in a room with the Creative Director and his team. I’m really learning to hate the CD! He is twatness personified!

We were working out how to pitch for a new client who actually contacted us, seeking our services. This “brainstorming session” as the CD called it was an exercise is sub-intellectual masturbation.

Actually, it was more like wanking with no hands.

How do you wank without using your hands and actually get off? That’s the thing; you don’t. It was a colossal waste of time.

We were locked in the conference room for nearly six hours, with just an hour break for lunch. It really did take up the entire day!

Put it this way, it was the sort of meeting where someone would say a word, and then the group would “build” on this word, turning it into a concept, then the concept would be grown into an idea, which we would eventually build into the proposal.

Say, for example, the CD threw out the word “trust”, which he actually did at this meeting. The client, whose brand name apparently tested as “trustworthy”, wants us to use this consumer trust in some way to build and expand their market-share.

So we were trying to think of a way to build on this trust. Other words that were mentioned included “secure”, “dependable” and “faithful”, which could be why I wasn’t able to contribute very much to this meeting. I don’t know much about being “faithful”!

To be honest, I spent most of the meeting daydreaming and mentally undressing all the hot women in the room. The creative department seems to have the lion’s share of the hotties. I wonder if I could nick a few of them for my department? It would certainly dress the place up a bit!

I really didn’t get the point of this “brainstorming session” and to me, it seemed like the only thing accomplished was wasting my day! I just keep telling myself I get (very well) paid the same, whether it’s tedious or not!

As well as taking my boss to the lap-dancing club on Friday evening, I had a date planned with Tanya the teacher. We were supposed to meet in the West End, which was why I was able to go to the club with the MD as well, but at the last minute, Tanya had to change the venue to her place.

Why?

Because her babysitter cancelled unexpectedly at the last minute! So instead of a fancy meal in a posh restaurant and dessert back at my flat, she offered to cook me dinner at her place in Hanwell.

This complicated my plans somewhat, as it didn’t give me much time to enjoy the club. The boss and I arrived at about 6pm and the place wasn’t that busy. I had scored some charlie from “Wheeler” again, so I was ready to party!

As soon as we arrived, we went straight to the private area and staked out an alcove. My boss ordered a bottle of champagne and we invited a couple of lovely young ladies, a blonde and brunette, to join us.

Once the curtains were pulled, I broke out the coke and laid out some juicy lines. All four of us had a couple of toots with our champers, and then the girls danced for us.

I didn’t warn the boss that the stuff was speedy, I figured he’d find out soon enough!

The girls did a little striptease with lesbian overtones, nearly kissing each other when they got close, but there was no actual lip contact. It was hot and the MD was enjoying the show as much as I was.

We drank and partied with the girls for nearly two hours, before I had to make my excuses and go. The MD arranged to take both girls with him to continue the fun and on Monday he told me they ended up in a hotel on Park Lane. He spent a fortune, but he said the experience was worth double what it cost him. He couldn’t thank me enough!

It always pays to keep your boss happy!

Meanwhile, I jumped into a black cab and made the long trek out to Hanwell, deep in the bowels of west London.

This was only my second date with Tanya and it was meant to be a casual dinner in a public place. It hadn’t really occurred to me as I made my way to her house that it was too soon to be entering her real-life.

Before I even knocked on the door, I could hear screaming inside the house. Tanya was having a heated argument with her children. I hesitated briefly before knocking on the door.

Tanya answered looking somewhat stressed, quickly explaining that her children were behaving like “monsters” and were refusing to go to bed. They’re both under ten and my impression of them was that they were absolute brats!

As soon as I arrived, both of her children, a boy and a girl, were all over me, asking me questions, jumping up and down and generally misbehaving. It seemed like they did everything they could do to make me feel uncomfortable, short of asking me straight out if “I was going to be their new daddy”.

It went on like this for over an hour; luckily I was a bit pissed and coked-up and took it in my stride. By the time she finally got the two of them settled down, I was exhausted and drained. I’d lost my appetite by then as well.

I think Tanya could tell this wasn’t going well and though she was still willing to cook, I declined her offer of a meal. Instead, I told her I’d had a long, hard day at the office and thought it would be best if I just went home.

This upset Tanya and she tried to persuade me to stay, but by then my mind was made up. She phoned for a mini-cab and I disappeared into the night.

Yes, my friends and fans, that was my narrow escape. I couldn’t think of a more unpleasant way to spend a Friday evening! As you can imagine, I won’t be phoning Tanya again and I’m already on the hunt for someone new to meet from the dating website.

I wished I had stayed with the MD at the club, or even better at the hotel with the two dancers! Oh well, you live and you learn!

Instead, when I got home, I changed into my charcoal grey robe then logged straight on to my new favourite website to search for a playmate to come over. I didn’t have to search long as a woman I’ve had my eye on was listed as available and her phone number was included on her listing page.

I phoned “Kylie” and she answered on the second ring. She looked like a right hottie in her photo, twenty-five years old, with shoulder length blonde hair and a tight little body. Her listing said she was new in town, having just arrived from Australia.

She was exceptionally pleasant on the telephone and as she’s based in Camden, it didn’t take her long to get to my place; it took her around ninety minutes to arrive from the time I phoned. Even though it’s probably only 10 minutes in a taxi, a girl needs time to prepare.

I went for a one-hour booking for one-hundred and fifty quid, which seems to be the fairly standard rate, though if you look hard enough, you can find some eastern European women offering their services for one-hundred an hour.

You can also find women charging more, but they tend to be actual porn-stars and glamour models. In my view, they wouldn’t be worth the extra money.

Something else I noticed this week is that on a whole, many blonde escorts charge more just because of their hair colour! How silly is that? Is a bottle of bleach that expensive? At least “Kylie” didn’t boost her fees because she was blonde!

“Kylie” turned up dressed in a micro-mini skirt and blouse, but the corners of the blouse were tied around her mid-drift, exposing her flat little belly. She was wearing stockings and heels as well and she looked quite tarty! I was not disappointed at all!

“Kylie” was very friendly and I immediately felt at ease in her company. She was very relaxed and laid-back and I liked her right away. I paid her fairly soon after she arrived, to get it out of the way.

She asked if she could smoke and of course I said “yes”. She then said it was a cannabis joint and again I told her I didn’t mind. I even had a couple of puffs myself, though I’m not a huge fan of the stuff.

I offered her some charlie and she jumped at the chance. This was going to be good! I also poured us a couple of whiskeys and we had a little toast to our hour together. I had swallowed an Erectalis before she arrived, so I was already good to go!

Once “Kylie” finished her joint, and we drained our glasses, I suggested we move into the bedroom.

I could detail what we got up to vividly, but I’m worried that my blog is turning into the “whore of the week” report and I’m concerned that it might be getting a bit dull.

Needless to say, there was oral sex, reverse oral and a bit of doggy style action! The main thing is I managed to pop twice in an hour, so again it was value for money. One of “Kylie’s” services was CIM and I took full advantage of her willingness to take my load! Overall, it was a very good punt!

The one real highlight of the experience was something I requested, that “Kylie” mentioned she would do on her listing page. I asked her to strip for me to music. As luck would have it, when I tuned into MagicFM, one of my favourite “Simply Red” songs came on!

It’s called “Holding Back the Years” and it’s a really slow, sexy ballad. It was perfect for watching “Kylie” peel off her togs.

Once my time was up, I thanked “Kylie” and sent her on her way. I wasn’t able to sleep easily because of the charlie, but at least I was relaxed! I ended up watching some old movie on telly before eventually drifting off.

On the Saturday night, I didn’t get up to very much. I had a few adverts running on craigslist and Gumtree, but none of the responses I received yielded any action. It seems like that’s the way at the moment; I don’t really understand why it’s all died off so much. Perhaps it’s time I found a new approach or tried some new adverts.

Actually, I spotted someone else on craigslist using one of my adverts. I mean, it was literally word-for-word, one of my adverts; a straight cut and paste!

I can only assume it was one of my fans, so hello there you little advert thief! Hope you had better luck with it than I have lately!

Oh and the advert in question? It was my old favourite; “no strings oral sex available for any woman in need”. Actually, he’s welcome to use it, as it hasn’t nearly got the appeal that it used to. I guess the ladies have had enough of that one and are ready for a new approach.

It’s settled, I’ll be using my superior discreet brain to formulate a brand new way of pulling women from the internet! I need to remain ahead of the competition somehow!

I had a big row with Doug last week, following his appearance at my flat the previous week.

He’d read what I wrote about him in my last entry and he wasn’t happy about it. I haven’t been happy with the way things have been going, mainly because they’ve been going so slowly!

I guess that makes us even.

Doug was defensive but he really didn’t have much of an argument. He’s supposedly been working on adapting my first blog into a tv series for the last few months and I’ve yet to see a single script.

After all this time, he said “that it was a bit pointless to go too far on the scripts at this point, as we haven’t had any input from any commissioners.”

I asked what he meant. He explained that if a tv network commissioner decided they wanted six, thirty minute episodes, then the pacing and scripts would go one way, but suppose they decided they wanted twenty episodes? Then it would have to go another way.

I could just about see his point.

What I got out of this is we need to be talking to commissioners to see what they want and I don’t really understand why we haven’t spoken to them already.

I’ve given Doug an ultimatum; he’s got until April to demonstrate in some tangible way that he has moved the project forward. Ideally, by getting us a deal to make the series, but I’d even settle for a finished pilot script or a “pitch meeting” with one of the networks here. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for!

Doug agreed and then, you’re not going to believe this, he asked what I thought of the discreetlondon theme song he recorded! I didn’t even dignify it with an answer!

Actually, after that, I finally cooled down enough to give the tune a listen and you know what, it’s actually quite catchy. I’ve found myself mindlessly humming it a couple of times since! I haven’t told Doug this yet, but I guess he’s reading it now for himself!

He still can’t sing though!

I wasn’t the only hero at my office this week, Terry my assistant also pulled off a wondrous move of his own. He gave “Ginny” a bit of a makeover!

“Ginny” is my recent appointee and now works in my department as a senior sales executive. It was a major promotion for her and I asked Terry to have a gentle word with her about the way she looked.

“Ginny” has no style or dress sense whatsoever and probably shops for her dresses in the same stores your grandmother does! Well, not anymore!

Terry took her shopping and got her some new, sophisticated clothing as well as taking her to a beauty counter for help with her make-up. Finally, he brought her to a posh hair stylist in Soho and had her hair professionally cut.

The results are stunning! I barely recognised her!

Don’t get me wrong, “Ginny” is still quite plain looking, but at least her wardrobe and general appearance have improved. Gay or not, I knew Terry was a gem!

I wonder if I can give him a bonus? He really keeps things together for me and I wouldn’t survive in that office without him. I should probably just do it out of my own pocket!

Maybe I’ll check with HR first. Company money would be better.

“Jenny”, who didn’t get the promotion, is accompanying me up to Manchester later today. She’s by far one of the best looking and sexiest women in my office as well as being the easiest.

“Jenny” made it clear I could have her when she was campaigning for the promotion. I’ve made her my protégé of sorts and hope to help guide her career further.

I also hope to fuck her senseless at some point soon too. Perhaps tonight, if the mood takes me.

Put it this way, I’ve already packed the Erectalis and Durex Performas! And don’t forget I’ve also got some of “Wheeler’s” finest and I know “Jenny” has a bit of taste for it!

Although the prospect of banging “Jenny” is appealing, I’m not really looking forward to this trip. I’ve got to meet with a disgruntled client and resolve a bit of dispute.

It’s really quite a silly argument and having looked into the matter, they really don’t have any cause to be upset with my firm. I think I need to find out what the real story is.

Part of me is convinced that by sending me up north to deal with this somewhat tricky and delicate matter, the MD is testing me. It’s not a sales issue, strictly speaking and when he asked me to go, he said, “Someone at the director level needs to get involved”.

What he didn’t say is; why I was chosen for this particular task.

Life is simple; either I’ll establish what the real problem is and fix it, or I won’t. Of course, I’m planning on further cementing my already impressive reputation by returning with the whole thing done and dusted!

Either way, it’s an excuse to spend the night alone with “Jenny” away from the office, so I’m not going to get too worried about the rest just yet.

As I’ve said, I‘ve already been a hero twice at work in the last week.

My first triumph concerns my friend Hans the security guard and his pursuit of Cathy, the girl who works on the coffee cart in reception.

I’ve been coaching Hans on how best to pull Cathy. What’s the point of having all my expertise with women if I can’t share it with my friends?

He finally got an opportunity to ask her for a date and they are going out together on Friday night! Result!

Cathy had mentioned to Hans she wanted to see a band that was playing this Friday night at the Hammersmith Apollo.

I’ve told Hans about a million times that the key to seducing her was to make it feel as natural as possible by jumping in and seizing any sort of opening she might provide. Thanks to my coaching, Hans was primed to offer to get the tickets as if it were a reflex action!

Well done to Hans for grasping this golden opportunity!

The catch of course is that the concert she wanted to see was already long sold out!

The group, or duo I suppose, is called “Belle and Sebastian” and I’ve never heard of them. Neither had Hans, so we sought Google’s help. I guess MagicFM don’t play their music.

I now know that their latest single is called “Funny Little Frog” which now classifies me as a bit of an expert.

Hans didn’t know where to turn for tickets, so again I stepped in to offer him my help.

Never fear, DL is here!

I tracked down a pair of tickets to this sold out show via a ticket broker I found online. They cost a fair bit more than the actual price on the ticket and I knew Hans couldn’t afford them, so I paid for them myself and gave them to him. He refused at first, but I insisted!

There was no way I was going to let him fall down at the last hurdle just because he didn’t have enough dosh! What are friends for? I was happy to help Hans out! I can’t wait for a full report from him on how it went, when I see him this Monday!

My other act of heroism that has everyone in the office practically giving me standing ovations every time I pass by is this: I clinched that big deal we were bidding on! Result! Again!

Our client had asked for more time to make up their minds about our proposal and that got me thinking. I wondered what the last-minute hitch was.

I contacted the senior manager at the client’s office directly and asked him to meet me for a pint at a pub I know near their offices.

Over our bitter and Ploughman’s, I managed to get the low-down on what was really going on.

It seems our competition, while not pitching their proposal as well as we did, had one distinct advantage; they were offering my new friend, the senior manager, a bit of a private gift.

This additional factor made their offer far more attractive to him, but he was having a hard time convincing his colleagues to go with the other firm.

The gift?

A 32-inch plasma screen tv, delivered discreetly to his home.

As I said, life is simple.

The promise of a top of the line, 40-inch, Sony Bravia, delivered even more discreetly and the problem was solved and the deal was sealed. Plus my new friend got to create the illusion of deferring to the greater collective wisdom of his staff and co-workers. Everybody wins!

All it took was an extra 8 inches! You can make up your own dick joke again, I just can’t be arsed.

Later that day, the MD got the call that the contract was ours! And guess who was singled out as the “king of closers”?

I bet you got it on the first try!

Later on, I let the MD in on our little secret that for a paltry two grand, this very lucrative contract was now ours. He was most impressed!

As the news came unexpectedly, we weren’t able to celebrate properly on the day. Instead, there’s quite a big bash planned for Friday evening. I can’t really go because my ex-wife is dropping off my little girl on Friday evening.

Though if “Jenny” and I are back from Manchester early enough, I’ll try to make a brief appearance. As the man of the hour, I expect everyone is going to want to toast me as much as they want to toast our success! It would be good to show my face, if only for a short time.

But by far, my finest moment, my true achievement and crowning glory of the past week occurred last Thursday night when I pulled off a rather nasty, yet effective revenge stunt on my email stalker.

As I’m sure you recall, I’ve had some mad woman virtually stalking me with emails for weeks now, with no sign of any end. Actually, the frequency and intensity of her messages was increasing daily!

I encountered this woman through one of my adverts on craigslist and quickly established that she wasn’t the sort I would want to meet. I was polite about it, but explained that I didn’t think it was a good idea and thought that the matter was finished.

I was wrong.

Since then I’ve been bombarded daily with email messages, thankfully to an account I consider disposable, that range from the downright sleazy to out and out scary and somewhat threatening! For ages, I didn’t reply to a single one.

Finally, I decided I had enough and it was time to teach this psycho bitch a lesson! I enlisted Hans for a little assistance and set about putting my plan into motion.

I emailed her back with a convincing story to explain why I hadn’t responded to her messages and told her I was flattered by all of her attention. Baiting the hook was easy.

Next, I got her to send me some photos of herself, something I don’t normally do. She quickly complied, supplying me with face shots and a couple of full body nudes. She’s actually quite a hottie, even if she is insane!

Her email address included her real name, she had already sent me her landline and mobile phone numbers and now I had pictures of her. I was all set.

I explained to her that we couldn’t meet at my place and it would have to be a hotel. Then, I asked her if she would take care of booking the room.

She balked at this initially, but I explained that I had some credit problems, but could easily pay for the room in cash when we checked out. All she would need to do is guarantee the room with her credit card. She bought the CCJ line without question and relented.

Finally, I arranged for all of this to happen last Thursday night, at a hotel very near my flat. The final piece of the puzzle was in place.

The one thing she told me that I found surprising was that her boyfriend might be suspicious if she stayed out all night. She said she would come up with a convincing excuse and it wouldn’t be a problem.

A boyfriend? On top of all of this stalking, she lives with someone! Oh the poor guy!

Hans and I arrived at the hotel together and quickly split up. I went straight to the hotel bar, while Hans went to reception to sort something out.

The bar was already fairly busy, mainly filled with businessmen and what appeared to be conference attendees. I found a quiet spot in the corner to put my plan into action.

Then, I made the first of three phone calls from my mobile.

I rang the hotel reception and asked for my stalker’s room using her name. They connected me almost instantly and I quickly hung up in case she was still in the room. That confirmed that she had carried through with booking a room in the hotel and was already registered. So far, so good.

Next I scanned the bar, looking for my stalker. I had her face photo with me, just in case, but it turned out I didn’t need it. She was seated at the bar, on her own, occasionally glancing over her shoulder, looking for me.

She didn’t have my photo and as I said, the bar was chock full of loads of other men who could have been me. Average height, average looks, dark suits, you know the type. She didn’t have a chance of spotting me.

Then I made my second call of the night; I phoned my stalker’s mobile just to be doubly sure I had my eye on the right woman. I was ultra discreet when I did this, keeping the phone low against my body when I hit the send button.

I watched her fish around in her handbag and extract her mobile. I rang off before she could properly answer it and I made sure I withheld my number, so she didn’t know who was phoning. That was confirmation enough for me.

I then made my final phone call. It was to Hans, to identify the target to him. With that done, I went to the bar and ordered myself a double whiskey. It cost a bloody fortune, damn hotel prices! It was a tenner! For a whiskey! It’s highway robbery!

With my drink in hand and a vantage point in a quiet corner, I relaxed and let the Hans take over.

His role in all of this was two-fold. First, he brought an envelope to reception and asked them to deliver it my stalker’s room. I gave him a tenner to tip the desk clerk, to make sure this happened quickly.

The second thing he did was wait in the bar for my phone call. Once he received it and knew who the stalker was, he went up to her and told her “some guy” gave him a tenner to deliver an envelope to her. Then he handed her the envelope and went back and sat down.

My stalker tore the envelope open and discovered its contents; a greeting card with the words “Thank You” on the front.

Glued inside, was a small piece of printer paper, cut to fit, with the following printed inside:

“Hi there xxxxx,

As you might have guessed by now, I’m not there. I’m not going to be there. You must be clinically insane if you thought I would meet you anywhere, anytime, ever!

I think you are probably genuinely psychotic and should seek professional help.

Let this be a lesson to you and a costly one. I’m sure a room here isn’t cheap.

Learn to take “no” for an answer!

You.

Stupid.

Bitch!

All the best,
xxxxxxxxxx”

I watched as she read my little note and could see the expression on her face go from neutrally confused to completely enraged in a matter of seconds. This was no slow-burn, but a full on inferno!

She marched over to Hans, who now had the hardest job of all, keeping a straight face when she confronted him. I was close enough that I could just about hear her shouting at him.

First, she accused him of being me but what little common sense she has kicked in and she realised he looked nothing like my description. Mainly Hans is a lot taller and of course, a lot younger.

Then my stalker asked where I was. That, I could hear as she kept repeating “then where is he?”, looking around the bar, asking Hans to point me out.

He didn’t; not so much as even a glance in my general direction. He was perfect! He told her what we agreed he would tell her; that the man who asked him to deliver the envelope, left the bar right after that.

She then asked what he looked like and Hans stuck to our script; average looks, average height, average… you get the idea!

By now, she was livid and her face was bright red with rage. She stormed out of the bar and I followed at a discreet distance.

She went straight to the lifts and got on the first available. I watched the floor indicator tick upwards until it reached the twelfth floor, stop and then returned to reception. She was going back to her room.

And what would she find waiting for her in the room, but the other envelope. And what did she find inside that one?

She found a high quality, full colour print of her nude photo, which clearly showed her face. Printed on the back of the photo were her full name, her mobile number, her landline and a list of email addresses.

Whose email addresses were they?

I have no idea.

I found them all in the headers of the countless stupid email jokes she forwarded me. I’m guessing they are friends, relatives, and work colleagues, perhaps even her live-in boyfriend; probably everyone she knows!

I think the message I sent her was received loud and clear. I haven’t had a single message from her since!

My plan was perfect, executed with military precision and true malice.

Including her personal details and the email addresses on the back of her nude photo was a real masterstroke of ingenuity; my ultimate coup de grace! I’m guessing she didn’t know what hit her!

I thanked Hans for his help; I couldn’t have pulled this off without him! He was great and didn’t ask many questions, but then, that’s what friends do, isn’t it?

And to think my best mate, Bob, told me to leave it alone and forget about my stalker. I’m glad I didn’t follow his advice! Everything she got, she deserved!

And Bob’s also told me that I shouldn’t have the paternity test, but he’s wrong about that too. I need to find out for sure!

I know this post is long and it may seem a little rushed, but I’ve got to catch the train to Manchester shortly.

I’m planning on phoning my contact at the client’s office once we’re on the way, to see if he can meet “Jenny” and I for a drink tonight. If I can get all that sorted quickly, then I’ll have even more time to spend with her!

And it’s not like I could work on this post while I was on the train, sitting next to “Jenny”. I’ll be posting it before I go.

Imagine if I did write all this on the train! What if she glanced at the screen of my PowerBook and read what I’ve written?

If that wouldn’t be the pinnacle of total indiscretion, I don’t know what would be!