Joel Wing doesn't know how to go away. Even after last week's "Jim's World" when I told him to stop sniffing around my crotch.
I'm not your friend, Joel.
I am C.I.'s friend and, you can ask her, I always tell her, "You spend too much time on those e-mails." And she does. Even now with about eight people working the e-mails for her, she's still trying to read as many as possible that come into The Common Ills.
Here?
I've said from day one, we're not running a pen pal agency.
You have a problem, e-mail.
After that we don't need to hear from you again.
We put out a weekly edition. The writing here is what we are judged upon -- not whether or not we were good pen pals.
Joel Wing, you have a website.
I'm aware you've used it to trash C.I.
She didn't give a damn when I told her about it, she actually laughed and then changed the subject.
She's probably not given it a second thought.
She's not obsessive the way you are, Googling yourself to find out what everyone says.
I don't like you. You're just going to have to deal with that.
I have nothing to say to you.
You have a website. If you want to sound off, do so there.
I don't desire a correspondence with you.
I didn't open your e-mail. I'm not going to.
Stop writing.
You got a reply, my piece last week.
You're not getting a pen pal.
Like I said, stop sniffing my crotch.
