When my old chums Theodore and Evadne Google decided to offer an email service, they contacted me so that I was able to get an email address that was my own name (and I mean the less well known name that I use to conduct my business in the alternative universe, not the witty sobriquet by which you know me), without any fancy characters, or, as in the case of my hotmail account, appending the number “69”. (How I laughed about that one).
I am ever grateful to them for this. One of the downsides of this is that I get a disproportionate amount of junk mail, but Evadne kindly sifts through it every morning before she waters the pelargonium, so I am only left with the cream, as it were.
It appears that there are other people in the world who share my name. None of them, it is barely necessary to mention, share my charms, but some of them have interesting lives. Others assume that the gmail address of these people must be the one that I reserved, and this has led to some bizarre correspondence over the months.
I had a very pleasant correspondence with a dyslexic estate agent who was keen that I buy some property in Texas. I soon became bored with that.
I then had a brief correspondence with a young man of French descent who was keen that I attend his parties. I am ashamed to say I was rude to him, as I thought for a time he was a spammer. I did not go to any of the parties, and so have nothing to report.
Today, however, things started to look up. A young lady, who I shall only refer to as Lorraine, sent me the following:
(it was headed: “Nigeria & Shakleton´s voyage..”)
I didn´t lose the email addresses nor did I forget to send the email as requested...see..I can learn from my mistakes!
Boyos..hope you both have a wonderful time in BRAZIL...let me know if you have any interesting stories to tell..
take care and safe travels,
Thank you for an entertaining few days in Patagonia..
I replied immediately:
How delightful to hear from you.
I am so pleased that you did not lose the email addresses.
My time in Brazil must remain a secret due to international security concerns, but one day I may be able to tell the story. Next time we meet I will be able to tell you a little about it.
I am disappointed that you view the days in Patagonia as only entertaining. In my mind they are amongst the most enervating and erotic in my long and event-filled life.
Did I ever tell you the story about my night in Casablanca with the boy who was later to become Pope John Paul II?
Who are you?
love, peace and coloured orgasms.
I welcome your comments. I am particularly intrigued by Shackleton’s voyage to Nigeria. It is little wonder that he failed to reach the South Pole. I thought that educational standards were somewhat higher in those days, but it appears that dear old Ernie, were he alive today, could expect little more than an A++ GCSE in geography.