Diary #324

Last week was a really strange one; it was as though something unwholesome was in the air.  I spent large portions of every day on the phone, and only a little of it was in the relatively-pleasant task of giving interviews to reporters; the rest of it was spent putting out figurative fires and talking to customer service people about more glitches and problems than I usually have to deal with in a month.  Most of the would-be clients who called me were nothing but wankers and time-wasters, and two good appointments that I was really looking forward to were postponed; one of those was my New York trip, which now looks like it’ll probably end up in October.  And if that all weren’t bad enough, on Thursday the news spread through our community that Tahoe Ted, who was demonized by Seattle “authorities” for running a message board, took his own life rather than endure any more character assassination and emotional torture.  Apparently, the prosecutor’s office doesn’t want this getting out because they realize it makes them look bad; they don’t want anyone realizing that their victims are human beings with lives and feelings, whose lives they wantonly destroy to “send messages” about people having sex for reasons sociopathic billionaires disapprove of.  About the only good news I received last week was that my friend Savannah Sly is returning to Seattle soon; let’s hope she brings some good fortune with her.