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Last updated on 8 June 2008
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DIARY OF A MAD SEA MONKEY LADY
Wednesday, April 28th, 2004
It's funny, but since I posted the warning about using the e-mail addresses of those
who flame me on the site, the number of abusive letters has decreased. But something's changed...
This week we have two guest idiots who wish to share their thoughts and their addresses with you,
Our first contestant hails from hotmail
Rachel Hendrickson, e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org but he/she actually hails from Trustar Federal Credit Union
located somewhere in Idaho, near Boise. (I know how to trace IP addresses too! I'm multitalented!) You've
just won yourself a chance to be mocked and derided by the Sea Monkey Lady.
Her e-mail from today reads as follows:
Seamonkeys are gay. Anyone who has a website about worshiping some
sperm-sized minnows seriously needs help. I'm not even kidding, think about
what you are doing! Anyways good luck not committing suicide or anything.
Kiss my ass.
No thank you, Ms. Hendrickson, I will not kiss your bottom! Who knows where you've been??? But I will break down the psychological
reasons you would take the time to send me something like this! Let's start at the beginning.
"Sea Monkeys are gay."
Perhaps. I'm not sure about this. I know they do procreate in five different ways, which one would think
was enough for them, but perhaps they are, in fact, homosexual. I cannot confirm or deny this. So you have
me there. But why would you use this phrasing? They say that he who smelt it dealt it. Perhaps you have
some issues of your own you'd like to talk about?
"Anyone who has a website about worshiping (sic) some sperm-sized
minnows seriously needs help."
Where to start with this? "Sperm sized" they are not as they are visible to the naked eye.
"Minnows?" As well all know, minnows are large boats out for a three hour tour, whereas Sea Monkeys
are crusteacea. Silly Rachel! As for needing help because I worship them, perhaps I could teach you
a little about the concept called "a sense of humour". It's called "fun" and perhaps you have very little
in your life. I suspect that you are projecting your own sense of isolation and despair onto me, hoping that
you can share a little of the blackness you call your life into my wondrously joyful and happy corner of the earth.
Wow, did it make you feel better? I suspected it wouldn't. You see, lashing out at others doesn't make us feel
any happier; in fact, it will make you feel worse. Instead why not try taking a moment to see how you would like
your life to be and try to make it that way. You'll feel better for it in the end. As for me needing help, well,
that's a foregone conclusion...I know my mental problems!
"Anyways good luck not committing suicide or anything."
Thank you for these kind wishes. I can tell you are a real people person...Don't worry about me.
As a trained social worker, I am always on the look out for people who might be at risk to harm themselves, and I can
assure you that I am not amongst that number. I may not be all that normal, but I am not depressed or suicidal in any
way. I wonder why you would think this? My life is pretty darn great...I have a book out, I get to travel, I have friends
and family who love me, I have great hair, and, the best of all, I have a boyfriend who is seriously great. What's not to
love here? Sure, I could use a couple million dollars to buy an island off the West Coast of Canada and I wouldn't
mind one of those convertible Thunderbirds, but if that's all I lack in my life, then I figure I'm pretty well off.
You, on the other hand...well, I'm worried. You're in Idaho...a great state, beautiful scenery, giant potato statue
and Craters of the Moon Park, but you are obviously unfulfilled in some way. For instance, you feel the need to lash out
at others, to share your misery with strangers, so I'm wondering what is going on in your life. Is there something you're
not happy with...your job, your lifestyle, your spouse? I'm here for you, Rachel. Remember that....
Here is the second in our calvacade of idiots:
Betty Gilcrest from AOL.com. Not content with sending me one annoying letter, she spends her afternoon
writing to both me and the Sea Monkey Guy.
hi i have a monkey name booger man joe that is a dangrous animal please give me a number too call emergency too they could take it out out bye please from ps 196
To which the ever gorgeous, intelligent, and creative Sea Monkey Guy responded...
what is the number for this company.
Take a moment to stop laughing...I am out of breath here...
Now I don't want you to get paranoid or anything but this is an un-numbered company. Its not that we're up to no good and chose to have no number. When we went to get our company number we were told by the clerk that so many people had been starting up businesses that there just wasn't enough number for everyone. According to him the last company number was given out to a small dog walking service in Memphis called "Jailhouse Walk". Now that wasn't the weird thing, the truly weird part was that this dog walking business was on Johnson Avenue and when I was growing up I had a friend who lived on a Johnson Avenue in another town who hated dogs and yet he owned 4 of them. Now that was weird.
So there are a few people who apparently can't read nor can they actually type.
The moral of today's story: Whenever life gets you down and you worry about not having all the things you want...
when you feel stupid or fat or ugly or unworthy, just remember that you don't spend your days writing
idiotic e-mails to people who don't know. I know it makes me feel better...
Share your thoughts with the Sea Monkey Lady