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From: hav@dual.UUCP (Helen Anne Vigneau)
Newsgroups: net.singles,net.flame
Subject: Walt Kurszewski, you child!  
Message-ID: <911@dual.UUCP>
Date: Fri, 18-Jan-85 16:58:06 EST
Article-I.D.: dual.911
Posted: Fri Jan 18 16:58:06 1985
Date-Received: Sat, 19-Jan-85 10:44:54 EST
Distribution: net
Organization: Dual Systems, Berkeley, CA
Lines: 46
Xref: watmath net.singles:5476 net.flame:7844

<*munch*>

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Note to net.singles readers:  The content of this article is highly volatile
and may explode on contact with cathode-ray tubes.
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Dearest Wally,

Are you out of diapers yet?  That delightful little letter-bomb I found in my
mailbox this morning really should have been posted to net.flame; you know
that, don't you?  Given the tone of it, I'm not at all sure you will be able
to read and understand it, but here goes.

My response to Ray's response to my response to Pooh's question about rings
(got it so far, Wally?) was not prompted by the (by you, presumed) fact that
I'm a 250+ pound pig living with a drunken garbage collector [sic], nor the
fact [sic] that I have a particularly nasty personality, nor the fact [sic]
that I'm just [sic] a bisexual who would be doing a great service to men by
being a lesbian insteat.  (Aside:  What's so horrible about bi/homosexuality?)

I'm afraid I don't understand at all your venomous attack on my comments.  I
was *only* trying to clarify what apparently was not clear the first time
through.  Did you read any of the articles besides mine?  I knew you hadn't!
You see, I got rather badly flamed for what had struck me as something of a
misunderstanding of what I had been trying to say.  I don't know what your
problem is, but I really don't see what I did that was *so* terrible as to
deserve the ninety-some-odd lines of vile filth that I read this morning.



Look, asshole, meet me in net.flame and be prepared to defend yourself.  This
IS NOT premenstrual syndrome here; this is not 250 pounds of something that
needs a waddle through a car wash [sic] to get its/her/his act cleaned up.
And NOBODY ever had to drink a fifth of Jack Daniels [sic] on my account when
the lights came on in any bar I ever went to.  (Aside from the fact that I
never stay that late unless I'm with my SO.)  But I digress.  Meet me in
net.flame, and we'll talk about exactly who is frustrated and only has one or
two brain cells left [sic].



Again, my apologies to net.singles readers for the necessarily high flame
content of this article.  You should have seen the letter that provoked it.

Helen Anne