Stalking
Now I know I am going to sound like a physco here. When I was 16, I moved out of home and got a Bedsit in Mutley. Having no parental supervision and a dodgy off-licence, I started smoking and Drinking like Gary Glitter liked Children...

Our local Radio Station around here was 97FM Plymouth Sound with Dave and Kerry at Breakfast. I didn't realise this but he actually lived around the corner from me at the time, and regualy walked past the flat several times a day. Realising the minor celeb haunts that would come and go (and bearing that I didn't have a TV or a Computer back then - it was 1997) I would sit outside in the park and watch the other Z-list celebs turn up. (God this is sounding sad and fucked up to me...)

Me being the devil that I am, I started leaving presents on his car, like chocolates, roses, Condoms (not used) and teddy bears. I knew that it would freak him out and wanted to watch the entertainment.

Then 2 months later I finally could afford to buy a Black and White Television, and found another form of entertainment.

If I remember correctly, about 3 months after I stopped, he had a breakdown live on air.

Length : Too Short for my liking
(TIMBIonline available for any passing drunk sailor, Sat 2 Feb 2008, 11:18, 2 replies)

Stalked At Work
.
I'd come in from my journey to work and he was there, checking me arriving at work. I'd go for a shit and there he was, staring at my empty workstation until I got back. If I went for lunch, he always checked what time I returned.

He'd look in my shared network folder to see what I was working on, he'd stare at my timesheet every Friday.

Even when I took a holiday, he was always badgering me.

"Where was I going, when would I be back?"

I tell you, bosses get right on my tits....


Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sat 2 Feb 2008, 9:12, 1 reply)

Does suspected stalking count?
In the office there are a few new blokes who've joined the team. One of them's a nice enough bloke called D who does the occasional DJ'ing for a few local clubs. One of the guys on our team who was already working here (I'll just for argument's sake call him Ian :D) has seemingly taken a shine to him. Now this Ian has been working with our department for a good 4-5 years, and is very odd. Imagine a 40 year old redneck with glasses, something like Hank's conspiracy friend in King of the Kill, turning up for work everyday with a black baseball hat, grey skin-tight t-shirt, black jeans, a belt buckle the size of a manhole cover and on top of that a black BUMBAG, and that's Ian.

Apparently at about the beginning of December D invited Ian around to his house to get some stuff off his computer, and Ian turned up at his house with a usb hard drive, staying there for a good 5 hours. Apparently he just wouldn't take a hint to leave. A few weeks later it was New Year's Eve, and Ian turn's up outside D's house at 5pm with 2 bottles of wine. D says thanks, then realizes it's actually 2 bottles of his favourite wine. He gives Ian an odd look, takes the wine, then basically closes the front door while saying "Errr yeah, I'll see you in work..." leaving Ian on the doorstep. Slightly a bit harsh, but apparently he didn't want anoter 5 hour repeat performance on New Year's Eve.

Back in the office after we found this out lots of piss-taking ensured; Ian must be going through D's rubbish and making a shrine for him etc etc.

So now it's coming up to Valentine's Day, and the office have a "secret Valentine's delivery service" every year. So I guess I'm going to have to buy a card, sign it from a secret admirer and send it to D, just to put the shits up him :D

Yey for making stalking fun :)

Apols for length? Errr, yup, sorry about that, for post in weeks :(
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Sat 2 Feb 2008, 9:04, Reply)

more clinging than stalking
after 12 years of a bizarre on-off relationship, my ex and i finally decided to call it quits. we were bad for each other and we both knew it.
due to the fact that the split was both mutual and amicable, the creepy thin man(or CTM) and i remained friends.
having lots of friends myself, i'd forgotten that he didn't actually have any.
when i went for a night out at the local pulling pit, he'd beg to come along with us. he was so pathetic that i always gave in, much to my friend's annoyance(he really is very creepy).
things finally came to a head one night when, standing at the bar, i saw the most gorgeous man looking at me. seriously, this guy made me drool. i gave him the old hair-flip and smile and he was over faster than shit off a shovel. he bought me a drink and we got talking. he said he'd wanted to talk to me all night, but thought that "the little skinny fella" was my partner. i explained the situation and said that he was still a bit, shall we say, over-friendly. sexy guy says yes, that would explain why he's standing right behind you, giving me the daggers! i turned round pretty sharpish to give him a mouthful, he didn't even flinch! he just said "what have i done wrong?" as the stud of my dreams walked off without me.
it turns out that, every time i'd struck up a conversation with a bloke, he'd been no more than 2 feet behind me, glaring at my would-be suitors. he even went so far as to tell half the blokes in the club that we were married, but had an open marriage!

i realised at this point that our break-up hadn't been as clean for him as it had been for me, so i told him we couldn't be friends any more. he still didn't take the hint. he'd turn up with a weed(he knows my weaknesses) and "accidentally" miss his last train, meaning he'd have to sleep on my couch. it got so bad that, at one point, he'd phone me up and read his gas bills down the phone to me! i mean seriously, wtf??? desperate is one thing, but this was ridiculous.
he hasn't contacted me for about a year now. how did i manage that? easy - i lent him money.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sat 2 Feb 2008, 3:53, 10 replies)

It seemed clever at the time
I had a real nut-case stalking me for a good six months a couple of years ago. She would 'accidentally' bump into me while I was out with friends, managed to get the phone numbers of those close to me and harangue them, invited herself over to family dinners and of course rang and messaged me daily for months and months. Eventually I thought the only way to really shake her was to die. So I made an even more concerted effort to stay away from her for a couple of weeks, then got some friends to send her distraught messages, and even took out obituaries in the two main Melbourne newspapers.

Bad move - the outpouring of grief was immense. My parents were flooded with flowers for three weeks, two local chaplains offered their services for funerals, long lost friends came out of the woodwork, ex-girlfriends tried calling home in tears - the whole shebang. All the while, I'm sat at home, quite alive, trying to figure out how to fix all of this.

These days there are still people who won't talk to me because of what I did. The worst thing is I don't think the stalker even realized - she still pops up occasionally, and is still just as scary as back then.
(dialagranny, Sat 2 Feb 2008, 0:59, 3 replies)

I searched for a girl off University Challenge on Facebook once
She was pretty, and I knew her full name and what network she'd be in. She accepted my add, and I found that I had access to (in addition to over 200 pictures of her) her email address, her mobile number and her home address. Fortunately for her, I am quite shy, and, after two months of failing to muster the courage to send her a message or something I deleted her from my "friends".
(itwasreallynothing, Sat 2 Feb 2008, 0:46, 2 replies)

Lomg Ago and Far Away
.
I've never been a stalker but I was once picked up by the cops, from work, and questioned about a rape. That was not fun.

When I was a young Legless I used to go to college during the day and work in a bar at night. Every day, Monday to Friday.

My route from home to work used to take me past an old graveyard which I'd pass, every day, at exactly ten to seven.

So, the fateful day I was bimbling away to work, lost in my own thoughts, and passed the graveyard. Saw absolutely nothing out of the ordinary and arrived at work bang on two minutes to as usual. Put in a normal shift and was dropped off home by one of the regulars.

Next day, same thing and I started my shift. At about 7.30, two plain clothes coppers arrived and asked to see me. I wandered over, with the boss and they aske me to come down the station to answer a few questions. They wouldn't say what it was about, they just insisted that I accompany them to the station. So I did.

Once there, the nightmare started. Three hours of scary questions about a rape.

It turned out that a woman had been raped the previous evening in the graveyard by someone who bore a passing likeness to me. Tall, dark, devilishly handsome - apart from that age, I fit the bill. And it had happened around the time I always passed the graveyard. Three hours of trouser-wetting terror.

Eventually they let me go and I headed back to the bar - not to work, but because I needed a couple of drinks rather badly. On arrival, the boss took me into the back room and poured me a couple of whiskies and I told him what had happened and then he filled me in on what the local jungle-drums were saying.

It turned out that I was pretty much in the clear as the attack had happened at exactly 7 o'clock. The victim had told the police that the church bells were ringing 7 as she was attacked. That put me in the clear as I was in the pub then, a fact attested by the landlord and a few regulars.

The next day another local man was arrested, and, at the identity parade, was picked out by the rape victim. Over the next few days other bits and bobs made their way into the public domain. Turns out I knew the woman. Not well, but enough to say hi to - she lived a couple of streets over form me and knew my sister well. As the rapist wasn't masked, that let me out as well.

Strangely, the cops never got back to me that I was in the clear. They just never came back.

The whole business wasn't nice. I knew I was innocent, I knew I had nothing to do with the crime, but sitting in that interview room with two coppers firing questions at you, I tell you, after a while, even I started to doubt myself.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sat 2 Feb 2008, 0:35, 5 replies)

stalker
...not so much stalking as being accused of stalking. My ex was one of those people who felt that whatever they did or chose was RIGHT, by virtue of the fact that they were always right. Years ago, I had a website that my ex found. Despite not talking to her for about two years, let alone mentioning her on it, I found my guest book full of her rather bizarre rambles about how I was stalking her. In the end I sent her a fairly clear and direct message asking her to leave me alone.

About 11pm on a Friday night I got an email from someone I'd never heard of, threatening to break my legs and never try to contact his girlfriend again. "With pleasure", I thought. Anyway, they're probably happily married now. Good for them.

Well, if I was going to stalk someone, I'd be pretty picky about who I'd stalk anyway..
(retroboy, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 23:26, Reply)

Oh God, the memories
Christ, this just unclogged some bad memories.

I used to work as a trainer in an IT training centre. Basically the punter paid their money, got a course that worked over a computer with earphones and a book, and I was there to help them if they ran into difficulties. One of our students was a girl who had just left high school. She was doing some sort of secretarial course because Mummy and Daddy didn't want her going to University.

I've forgotten her name now, but I remember that she was morbidly obese with a face like a slapped arse. She was the proverbial bulldog licking piss off a nettle. She was doing the typing course and the MS Word course, all that shit. I had to help her if she couldn't find the 'Q' key on the blank keyboard or if the printer didn't work. I think she took the attention a little bit personally, and got some ideas. Wrong, wrong - putting 2 and 2 together and getting 8 - ideas.

One day the phone rang and the company secretary called me to the phone. It was this girl. She was being really shy and awkward, asking if I had many friends, and telling me that she didn't have many friends herself, would I be her friend. It was like listening to a five year old. I told her that she was free to come to the pub with my mates and I, knowing full well that if she did go to the pub, I wouldn't be there. I then put a female friend on the line to be friends with her instead.

A few days later a guy at the reception called to say that a fat, ugly girl had come in and given him something for me. It was a card, and on the inside was something about trying to be my friend, but I threw her to the side. It was trying to be poetic, but it was the type of poetry that even emo wankers would laugh at.

I didn't see her for ages, but then she came back in for her training. Sometimes she'd sit at her computer, with her headphones on but with no sound, staring at me for the hour until her Mum came to pick her up. After a while, she started leaving really really bad - and long - poetry on my desk when leaving. That's when I started getting scared.

From then on my boss told me I wasn't allowed to be in the same room as her on my own. I thanked him greatly and avoided her for the rest of the time she did her course. The thought of that fat, ugly mare staring at me from across the training centre makes me shudder.

I still have the poetry somewhere. I was told to keep it in case she accused me of anything and I needed to prove she was a psycho. It's in a file folder in my bedroom under 'Stalker Poetry'.
(Fuiru Sting, where is thy death?, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 23:11, 3 replies)

pffft
There's this one man, who follows me EVERYWHERE! He used to answer every question that I did on an internet messageboard and added me to MSN. I used to speak to him, quite baffled.

Eventually he started ringing me up every night and texting me. Then he ended up in a field that I was camping in on HALLOWEEN of all days!

He kept travelling MILES AND MILES to come and see me every month or so, and eventually got a tenancy in the same shared house I live in! Even when I moved home he moved into the same house!

Right now he's sat opposite me on the kitchen table, giving me googley-eyed looks every so often and chuckling to himself.

Apparently I'm engaged to him..
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 22:50, 4 replies)

Not stalking as such...
I guess it's not really stalking but more 'detective' work... although it does link in with some stalking.

Give me a missed call on my mobile from any land line, and I will be able to find out almost to the street name, where it came from. Comes in handy if the missed call doesn't leave a message and you can pretty much figure out where it is, and therefore who made the call. Now who sounds like the stalker?!

Now, several years ago I had a friend (who is still my best friend) who had a crazy nutbag of a girlfriend from some lovely charming place up north, somewhere. She had an accent. It was annoying. Anyway. She decided I must be getting down to business with my friend. Not true. Cue her obtaining my mobile number from his mobile and calling me accusing all sorts of mad things, blah blah. I'd never even met the mad tit. Anyway, from analysing the said friends whereabouts and future travellings from when we had met up, I managed to work out roughly where this psycho lived and worked. I never asked to check. I didn't care. I hate this bitch.
Then for roughly 6 months after the mad bint called me on my mobile infront of my current boyfriend at the time, causing my boyfriend to believe I must be shagging my friend, and therefore we broke up, but that's another story.... I'd get a call every single day from a land line number, which I traced to this same area as crazynutbag lived and worked, from some northern tit claiming I'd stolen her phone. It went exactly like this:
"Hello?"
*dumbest slowest retardedest northern accent ever* "You've got my phone."
"Sorry, I think you have the wrong number"
"No. You've got my phone."
"No, I'm sorry, but this is my phone and has been for several years. I think you have the wrong number."
"No... you've got my phone."
Over time escalating to "This is my fucking phone, not yours, why would I have your phone, leave me alone you psycho!"
...Now, I know I can't prove it was her but it sure as hell sounded like her, and from the same area where you don't really expect to find many people with accents like that? Hmm...

For the record, the phone is and was mine. Same phone for about 3 years. Same number for about 5 years. No idea what got it into her head that it was her's.

So. Stalker, me or her? Mad psycho? Her. Moral of the story... don't date psychos and don't make friends with people who are dating them. It will backfire in the most bizare ways.

Length? Not as long as one can only hope she will be locked away for...
( Bathory, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 22:46, Reply)

i've been accused of stalking because i got off at the wrong bus stop (well no one ever bloody told me there was another stop!) and walked behind the people who got off the bus after me
plus i looked like that hitch hiker that people are always picking up that kills people
Hairy Scary Starey SkUG was my nick name for a while...
( SkUG >_O i got a couple of stitches in my eyeball... ow, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 22:39, 1 reply)

stalkers
Not me as stalker/stalkee but Mr Scaredy-cat. Any way long before we met, Mr S-C emigrated to Australia, stayed 6 years, saw sense came home, met me and we've lived happily ever after(ish) with our 3 kittens.

Back to the stalker - his ex-aussie girlfriend P, the one he told that she was the reason he as returning to UK as she was such a headcase. Well, 12 months later - P turned up after no contact what so ever, flew 12000 miles, turned up at Mr S-C's sister and wheedled his address out of her, then travels a further 90 miles to stalk him at new job. After a week of being told to go away finally got the hint and cleared off but as a parting shot broke in his flat, phoned an 0845 number and left it running for a couple of hours. Police said 'domestic' (couldn't be bothered more like), Mr S-C paid the bill and put it behind him.

8 years later his sister rang wanting photos of the kittens as she is off on her hols to Australia at 2 weeks notice - to go to P's wedding!!!! Serious family meltdown occurred only repairing now, on the understanding that if we ever hear another word about P we won't be responsible for actions/loss of access to kittens.
(scaredy-cat, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 22:34, Reply)

stalking while posting!
As I post this the other browser tab is open on the Facebook profile of the barmaid servings drinks tonight, does that count?

It's usually longer than this honest, you can check my profile if you don't believe me ;-)
(bill, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 21:34, Reply)

The Pied Piper
Tonight, picking up my little girl from her school disco, the DJ decided to finish it with the conga just as all the parents arrive to collect their kids.

So a big snake-line forms across the dance floor as all the little darlings follow the kiddie in front of them with the DJ leading them all. The DJ in his infinite wisdom decides to venture off the dance floor and weave his way all around the chairs, loads of ankle biters still hot in pursuit.

Until....

1 little lad, 1/2 way down the line sees his Mum standing there with his coat, all ready to leave. He does what any 4 year old does and runs over to his Mum, puts his coat on and follows her out of the door.

What she didn't realise is that all the kids behind think that this is all still part of the conga line and keep on following. Cue absolute chaos as parents see their beloved children legging it outside following the fabled Pied Piper of Stockport.

I know it's not strictly on topic, but I haven't got anything else this week.
(brocky, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 20:47, 2 replies)

one a few posts down about beeing stalked because of posts on b3ta...
a long time ago the newsletter asked for people to make 'tattos' by getting a suntan over a stencil so that some parts of the skin were darker... you get the idea.
someone posted a photo of their attempt on /board which didnt work brilliantly, so i added a photo of my own as a reply of me with 'panda eyes', which was me having been skiing with goggles on, so the bit outside the goggles gets tanned, and the inside doesnt, and it was a fairly strong tan so i put it there as a proof of concept.
Anyway, the initial post made it into the newsletter. shortly after i recieved a few text messages from a 'jo' who had seen my picture in that thread and decided i was cute/hot/whatever. some how s/he had found my mobile number, i must have carelessly left it somewhere. Its not really stalking since it was only a few texts and never anything more.

If this makes it into the newsletter, Hello jo, whoever you are
( wjh31, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 20:30, 2 replies)

Its not a shit pun, but its not much better ......
This isn't that bad compared to half of these, but thats not the point. I slept with a really fat ugly lassie once, well as much sleeping as I could get while 'doin' the nasty' behind the local war memorial during a Scottish winter.On the walk home we/me decided the one night stand would go no further, hence the name.
Anyway, she used to phone me at the weekends drunk and try and 'get the sweet hook up' with yours truly ( on my house number, she lived local and so knew my name, address )
Then it turned to some sobbing and stuff then eventually she would just say nothing, but stay on the line indefinitely.
Not exactly front page news in 'the big woop, weekly' or anything and it stopped eventually.
But once it did, I felt something missing in my life, even to the point of wondering if she had moved on to someone else ( the fickle bitch :) )
So that probably says a lot more about me than her.

Hmmm, glad I got that off my chest !

P.S. Sorry about the 'hood lingo, Ive just been watching Hollywood Shuffle on DVD.....THE BEST FILM EVER BTW .....
(L.T. Smash Humungous fail since, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 19:50, Reply)

not technically a stalker
friend of a friend wouldn't leave me alone. For about 6 months she kept insisting that i was "nice really" and i should "admit it to myself". the words "i find you physically and mentally repulsive, go away" had no effect

the knowledge that she gave me so much to drink that i walked into a toilet door, was ejected from the premises and was sick on a bus, and STILL wouldn't touch her...... had no effect


bizarrely, what eventually did it was the phrase

"look, you're annoying me now, and i'm about to offend you. so why dont you do us both a favour and F**K OFF"
(court escaper, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 19:25, Reply)

6th time unlucky... where...
*throws cat if this doent post properly*
does one start.

Never having been particulalry good in the old love stakes I consider it actually good fortune to have attracted a real life stalker, on more than one occasion.

A few years ago in what is essentially a baren lanscape of a love life I pulled an internet girl... Woo hoo... she was real life and had blood flowing through her veins...

anyway I digress...

after a few weeks of chatting we decide upon that awkward initial meeting... dates and location are decided upon - and so the story begins.

We meet and have a good afternoon together, there is quite a bit of sexual tension, but seeing as shes driving - I cant rely on lady alcohol to do its job... but I shouldnt have worried.

Fast forward a few hours - and she invites me back to hers... score!

Trundling back in her small car - the air awash with sexual tension, we do what every young English couple do on thier first date - thats it - we go for a kebab.

Meaty rat meat treat gobbled, we make our way to her house... to be met by her father - who by all means seems unfazed by the appearance of a strange young man in the clutches of his daughter, this in hindsight should have given me ample warning that this young scarlet was not quite the virgin to which she proclaimed - anyway - I wasnted a piece of action and she was as I said - female and alive.

fast forward a few more hours, and we were on her bed, watching some trite, whilst attached via mouths... she gave me a blow job, but wouldnt let me plunge my tuppence worth into her golden gates, as her dad was still up... fair enough I thought perhaps she is actually quite decent...

morning time rears its smelly head, we both shower - independantly - her father goes off to work... and then the unhingedness begins...

we go back to bed and some frolicking ensues... when she starts to beg me for sex... literally, beg... never having been in this situation before I froze... and with a clear mind... I refuse.. I point blankedly say no to sex - to a real life girl - naked - in a large bed - right next to me... and this dear listeners, is exactly where it goes down hill...

Rapidly...

...Hangover Soup... hair of the dog... and lift back home...

then not a word... not a reply to a text, not a single flirty email - and certainly no msn contact... OK thinks I...

Then I start to notice a certain car - a ford KA, outside my house, at 7.30 in the morning, and 5.45 in the evening... every freaking day...

so not only did I spurn a bird, but I got a reminder of it every single day for a month...

Oh and as a side note, looking back she wasnt actually all that hot... but seeing as I resemble some form of woodland fungus, with matching smell, she was somewhat of a catch... however, this is where I turned stalker... for soon after our 24 hours of pashion, she decided a makeover was order of the day...

She lost weight, clipped and painted her horns - all the womanly things that men dont understand, and we go for a drink - when I suggest that we go back to hers for a bit of hows your father - an important meeting in conjured - and into the night she doth do battle - to never be seen again...

Arse - she got really fit too...
(feedingtimeatthezoo day 1 of his bikini diet started, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 19:23, 1 reply)

in my teenage years
I had a storker everytime I thought about boobies and fannies


(musta bindun)
(Heyzeus, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 19:00, 1 reply)

Not stalking per se....
I'd just got off the bus and had been walking behind the same lad for some time. He seemed a bit edgy but I had no idea why.

Anyway, he's five or six yards infront of me, pretty much walking at the same, very fast pace I am. Usually when i'm in uncrowded areas I like to walk very fast, especially when it's as chilly as it was this day. We're coming up to a set of traffic lights and with him being ahead of me, he's already halfway across when the little flashing bloke turns to red. Rather than be left standing on the pavement I decide to make a dash for it.

As I jog over the crossing, I get closer and closer to the lad in front until i'm only a few yards away. Just as I begin to slow down, his ears prick up, he hears the footsteps and sprints into the distance only to turn around to show off the most hilarious frightened look i've ever seen.

My brain clicked into gear and I realised what had just happened - he thought I was going to fucking mug him! He must've felt like a prize cunt when he looked over his shoulder for a second time only to see his would be pursuer doubled over laughing
(Peter Sutcliffe's Right Bollock, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 18:50, Reply)

I've not stalked
but been accused of it, by some scouse cunt.

A few years back now I had to do a contract far away from my home for about 2 months, during this time I got used to drinking on my own and getting totally shit faced, but still remaning cool and collective. Anyway, being the shy person that I am, it helped to bring out more confidence in me and I started talking to the odd stranger here and there.

When the contract was over I continued my solitary drinking in my local town. Unfortunately I ended up becoming quite attracted to a barmaid one one of my locals, so much so that I would grin from ear to ear every time I saw her, but still being the shy person that I was on the inside, I never managed to break out properly. I would continually go into the pub with the best intentions in the world, and just come across as some creepy shy guy who smiles lots.

I did at least try to ask her out anyway, I even asked her if she would join me for a drink once, sitting next to her was said scouse cunt, who took all of this in. She accepted, and I went and waited for her to join me, she didn't :( She just sat where she was, and didn't move, I should have gone and sat next to her but just didn't do it.

Anyway, I went away for a few days and when I got back she had left so I decided to find a new drinking hole. I went into a few bars, nothing tickled my fancy, then the last bar I decided to go into... She was working there, and who else was in there drinking? Yup, scouse cunt, who then declared that I was stalking her. Of course I was very put out by this as I only meant good, just not very good at expressing that.

I heard a few other people throw that label around and naturally it pissed me off.

I'm not a stalker :( Honest!
( Firkinfedup last shat on your wife's tits at, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 18:36, Reply)

Next weeks question...

Rape!
Have you ever been raped? Or perhaps you were the one doing the raping? Is that you in the bushes with your dick out?

Sponsored by the metropolitan police
(spac3d hunts kittens for sport, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 18:05, 2 replies)

Someone kept following me armed with different types of flowers. They often held on to the petals and jabbed me with the long end of them.
I had them arrested for stalking me.
( __, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 17:34, 2 replies)