Happy Stalker's Day

There are people in this world who are desperate and lonely. They don’t know how to interact with other people in a social environment. These people are unable to be in a stable relationship and therefore resort to the time honoured tradition of stalking.

Stalking is generally frowned upon by most country’s judicial systems and a few hot girls I know, but does that make it wrong? No. Stalking is just misunderstood, like fat people having feelings or IKEA furniture.

Stalking wouldn’t be such a problem if more people were open minded or enjoyed the attention they’re getting from some handsome/suicidal stranger lurking in the dark. People are sometimes too quick to point their accusatory fingers at a stranger with a telescope on the opposite building’s roof from their bedroom window, who’s wearing nothing but a trench coat and masturbating, for example. Maybe there’s a logical explanation for this person doing this. Why do half naked women immediately think that they’re being stared at when there might be a funny program on the television behind them, that this person might be trying to watch, Felicity!

We live in a society of fear. Mothers think that every middle aged man, in a panel van, parked outside a school, giving away free sweets, is up to something. Whenever a white person walks through a black neighbourhood late at night and they see a group of youths approach him or her, they automatically think that they’re going to play some awful rap music to them. Whenever we see a terrorist climb onto a plane with a bomb, we start having second thoughts about taking the same flight.

The news has made us scared to live in our own homes/flats/battered spouse institutes and why? It’s because fear sells! Valentines day. Mother’s day. Father’s day. Christmas day. Rape a fat chick day. New Year’s day. These are all examples of Big Brother controlling us and making us spend our hard earned cash on junk we don’t need in our lives.

So when the government inevitably introduces “Be aware of stalkers day”, just say no. Ignore the guy following you through the park, late at night. Ignore the man following in the dark alley, whose footsteps are getting closer and closer, but for the love of God, stop ignoring the heavy breathing phone calls. Have some compassion! I have asthma and I’m wanking while imagining you naked, tied up to my bed, with goats’ horns and pigeon feet.