Editor’s note: The events detailed below happened last weekend. But MF was too lazy to clean it up to get it published then. She also couldn’t be arsed to change this version to the past tense.
OMG!!! OMG!!! OMG!!! OMG!!! OMG!!! OMG!!!
So, the Fucker Who Blocked Me (TFWBM)
is, as I write this, here in Las Vegas!!!! He has two events scheduled, one a
performance this evening and the other a hardcore meet-and-greet tomorrow.
How do I know this? Well, he may have blocked me on Instagram, but he can’t block me from his website.
Neither event is sold out.
Oh, it is so tempting.
I know there are some friends out there who wouldn’t have an issue with me “borrowing” their credit card to book tickets (i.e., so they won’t be in the name of the would-be stalker who told him, via his bookers, that she could help him out if he needed to cross off “fat chick” from his Sexual To-Do list).
This would provide me with complete anonymity at both events.
I think I could behave at the concert, but the hands-on nature of the meet-and-greet (at some point, he stops at each table for a brief chat) would make it very hard to resist not giving him my real name.
Oh, but I would so enjoy seeing the look on his face if he recognized my name.
What a dilemma this presents me.
But if I decide to go, I have to take into account that this is the time of year in Vegas when it is too hot to go outside between noon and mid-October.
And mal thing, apparently) and I’ll try to work on myself, get the 13 chins down to about three, and the Texas-sized ass down to Rhode Island levels. Watch this space.
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