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Cyber-Sex With Amy Fisher

May 3, 2003 - 9:23 p.m.

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Last Five Entries:
The Party's Over
July 11, 2004
The Next Day
My Nervous Breakdown
True Confessions: My Life as a Female Impersonator
March 15, 2004
Bite Me
February 29, 2004



A couple of nights ago, I spent four hours making a new banner to run on DiaryLand.

It broke down like this: I spent about an hour looking for a photo to steal. I spent about two hours cropping the photo for the banner. And then I spent at least another hour trying to place the picture and the text on the banner.

The banner looks pretty good.

If I were in a first-grade class for slow students.

Amy Fisher Says: Free Daily Me!

What is sadder than my artistic ability is the fact that, during my "research" for the banner, I discovered a web site devoted to- you guessed it- free Amy Fisher.

It gets worse. I also discovered that Amy Fisher writes an online column.

Amy wrote a column about cyber-dating. Through cyber-dating, Amy found her fiancÚ.

Amy discovered from her experience of dating online that there are, "Lots of nice people and of course, a few weirdos."

I'll let that irony stand on its own without comment.

I have participated in this phenomenon called cyber-dating. I've agreed to meet women online at a certain time of night, when normal people are going out, face-to-face. I have engaged in cyber-sex.

It's possible that I've had cyber-sex with Amy Fisher.

LongIslandGirl: Oh baby, what are you going to do to me?

WellHungGuy: My fingers move slowly over the buttons of your shirt, releasing them one by one.

LongIslandGirl: I arch back, feeling the handle of the 9mm handgun stuck in the back of my jeans press against my skin.

WellHungGuy: I peel your shirt back, and press against you to brush my lips against yours. They are the sweetest I've tasted.

LongIslandGirl: And whose lips have you been tasting? Tell me! I swear, I'll kill her!!!

WellHungGuy: Sorry, I have to go. My mother needs to use the phone.

I had the feeling that my cyber-dating was pathetic. Now that I know that Amy Fisher and I share the same method of romantic socialization, I am wondering, what is the next level below pathetic?

No dicussion of Amy Fisher would be complete without this:


Say it with me.


I don't think it's fair to tease people about things beyond their control, like their looks or their surname. But this is an obvious exception.


Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date. And I don't even have to get out of my chair for it.

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