Too Young To Die

Today I went from feeling great to a place of utter terror when I received he following email:

Babe,

Have you seen this?

C********

Obviously my initial reaction as I scrolled through post after post of my own words masquerading as the words of this tragic individual was uncontrollable shaking followed by uncontrollable sobbing, because I always knew that some psycho was going to start to pretending to be me, then slowly stalk me, and eventually murder me. Getting stalk-murdered is how the chicest people’s lives come to an end, and I’d accepted my fate long ago. I just didn’t think it would happen this soon. I have another book to write, I have an entire pre-ordered SS ’13 wardrobe arriving in January, and I have yet to be invited to one of Leo DiCaprio’s birthday parties. There’s so much to live for!

I’ve gone ahead and beefed up my security team to three bodyguards (one who accompanies me everywhere, one who sleeps next to me, and one who watches the one who sleeps next to me). I figure if this capital P Psycho has been plagiarizing my blog since March, who knows what else she’s capable of? I’ve had several consultations with my therapist and spiritual team about it. My therapist is disturbingly calm about the whole thing, which leads me to believe that she’s in on this ploy to kill me. My spiritual team is more upset than I am, and are collectively trying to find a way to sage-cleanse the internet. At the end of the day, I guess this whole situation has given me a new lease on life, and an reason to invest in various wigs and full-body disguises until this stalker gets 5150’d for trying to be me.

And just so you know, “Marisa,” I had a protective auric shield placed on me 5 years ago, so if you think you’ll be able to suck my vibes through the internet, you’re sorely mistaken. Namaste.

 

LOVE YOU. MEAN IT.
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