via rachelhulin.com
photo by Vachon
The facial detail is intense.
Cousin Pete original.
Originally posted on The Daily Siege 1/3/2007:
“He taught me how to properly hug a girl. At first I thought the lesson was going to be about her, her needs, how she should feel. But no, he mainly focused on how to press her close enough to you to feel her boobs pressed against your chest, without her suspecting it.
He keeps deadly pets. He has a pit bull and a rottweiler, but his main source of joy is his collection of giant boa constrictors. When I took Katie (poor Katie!) to meet him, and she got stoned with him and my mom and his family, he insisted on showing her the snakes being fed live rats. This is not a good thing to see for the first time when you’re stoned off your ass, surrounded by rednecks, in a ramshackle trailer in the backwoods of Mississippi, but Katie survived, and I’d like to believe she’s a better person for it, if perhaps scarred a little.
There are many other stories about Pete, many happy, more sad. But this is enough right here, right now.”
Interesting problem, but it might be the price of a full public life (which is what this web 2.0 blitz engenders).
What would I do? There is an email for tips - flood the channel with misinformation.
I have a dilemma.
A woman has taken to obsessively writing about me (and my girl friends) on a certain blog. This woman checks my tumblr, my flickr, my vimeo, my twitter, the postings about me on gawker & valleywag, as well as all of the things my girl friends post, and spends a good portion of her time (time which could otherwise be spent engaged in fun and useful activities, such as tennis, horseback riding or archery!) penning long, bitchy, link-ridden items “analyzing” my life.
She’s not a bad writer - in fact, she’s quite good. And I actually don’t mind people harmlessly poking fun at me. But she crosses the line when she publishes crap rumors in the guise of “blind” items and completely misrepresents situations where she really doesn’t have all the facts. More than anything, there’s a raw vitriolic hatred to her writing that - yes - really bothers me. Scares me, even.
But worse than all that is her consistent refusal to write under her own name, and to take responsibility for what she’s written.
I have never met her. She doesn’t know me or any of my friends. But I know who she is.
I’ve known for quite some time now, and I was hoping general decency would - at some point - take over. Um … not so much. I’ve asked her politely to stop. She hasn’t.
Most likely I shouldn’t care. I go through periods where I don’t. But ultimately, I come back to this: people should be accountable for what they write. I’m tired of it.
Should I reveal her?
What do you think?
PS. She tried to be my “friend” on Facebook. That’s just creepy.