So, as I was saying, some goddamn snitcher has ratted me out.
To my father.
[Anush Kapadia at this moment is the most suitable candidate for a suspect, that fucking mummy’s boy]
He [my father] sent me a text blatantly lifted from one of my posts that seemed to imply that I did drugs. Even though, in my defense, the context of the entry had absolutely NOTHING to do with drug taking of any sort. Just being interrogated about it like its some controversial piece of evidence really irritates me. [My father is a solicitor]
But what really annoys me the most is that my father could have been reading the blog and the various idiotic comments flying back and forth for some time now. How long, who knows?
How very very very very careless of me.
When I said I was pissed off he threatened to halt all payments of my school fees for being ‘antsy’ and replied it was hardly a private journal, being as it was, on the internet.
So now I plan on sulking.
It is also his birthday tomorrow. Just to guilt trip him properly I shall send him a e-card.
But still, at the same time, carefully maintaining my inter-continental sulk.
Emergency action has been taken and my blog has changed addresses. [In case you haven’t noticed]
It is no longer on my profile and can only be accessed by typing it in the address bar.
Let us pray to Zarathustra that in the future this does not occur again.
Or more to the point, that I am much more discreet.