Have any of you ever been stalked before? I have been stalked by at least 4 people, 3 of which were male, 1 of which was of unknown gender. I don't know what it is about The Fee that sends out the message 'please follow me around cos I like the company of weirdos' but for some reason people think I should be stalked. It's not as if I'm so beautiful that people should want to look at me all day cos I'm far from being a hottie so that can't be the reason. Also, it can't be my wonderful happy personality that cling ons are attracted to as clearly I'm not exactly a full of life girl who draws people like fly to an oaty turd. In fact, if it wasn't for these stalkers proving me wrong I'd think, realistically, I should be a people repellant. Back to the stalking. My first encounter with a stalker was around age 14 when I was followed relentlessly around my paper round by a runty boy with a cheesey willy. I think the reason he followed me around was cos I led him on by groping said cheesey willy. Or maybe that was a figment of his imagaination but that was his story anyway. I'm not convinced it happened. He gave up after a couple of weeks when he realised that there was no way my hands were going anywhere near his unwashed manhood [again?]. Then I was stalked by a paperboy. Maybe that was cruel payback for being a hussy papergirl or maybe word had spread all around The Deen that I was the girl to fondle filthy parts. Who knows but this stalker came to my house, waited at the bus stop, turned up at places I'd be and generally drove me so mad that it finally ended with my brother threatening to break his pre-pubescent hard on is so many places that he'd never get his dirty nob felt ever again. Two stalkers is unlucky but 3 is just taking the piss I tell you. The third stalker came in the form of a geeky goth who'd only ever kissed one woman and she was precisely that - a middle aged woman larger than my house who wore black and moshed as well as I attend uni. She was foul. Maybe that's why he went for me, maybe he just had a ponchont for the grotesque. Whatever his addiction with me was, it culminated in him telling the world that he'd gotten me over my lesbian phase and that I was his for the keeping. And all because I'd helped him put on his makeup. Surely that was telling him something?? The fourth stalker is the most interesting one and some of you know the tale and know that if I were to tell it here I could dress it up to be the most fascinating story I've ever written here but unfortunately I must, for once, censor myself, and not divulge the juicy details publicly. It's a shame cos I'm sure it'd have you rolling around giggling and thinking 'what the fuck' but for reasons I can't go into I must refrain from being so nasty as to tell the world about the full on nobs that I know. Stalking, what's the point really? If you gotta stalk someone it's all so desperate and there's no way the object of your affection will be interested once they see you with your binoculours and camoflage, especially if like me the only colour of camoflage that does anything for you is blue, sitting on a wall eating a cheese sandwich and waiting for your 'true love' to make an appearance. It's not right. Being the compulsive person that I am I'm pretty sure I've done it but I guess there'e a difference between strolling casually past someone's work once a week to stalking even their friends. I have to go. Someone is watching me. I can feel their gay eyes on the back of my head. Or maybe that's cos one of them filthy students threw a spit at me earlier and it is now clogged in my freshly washed hair. Will someone please stalk me?