David Thorne has been getting a lot of stick lately – some people have been leaving comments under his past email adventures, saying that he is causing misery and pain to other people. That’s all very well – but round these parts, he cracks us up.
In this latest online interaction, things get quite hectique, with the homophobic man on the other end getting so worked up that he threatens to shoot David Thorne in the face.
Let’s get in there:
From: George Lewis
Date: Thursday 2 September 2010 6.51pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: No Subject
I have read your website and it is obviously that your a foggot.
From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 2 September 2010 8.07pm
To: George Lewis
Subject: Re: No Subject
Dear George,
Thank you for your email. While I have no idea what a foggot is, I will assume it is a term of endearment and appreciate you taking time out from calculating launch trajectories or removing temporal lobe tumors to contact me with such. I have attached a signed photo as per your request.
Regards, David.
From: George Lewis
Date: Thursday 2 September 2010 8.49pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: No Subject
I didnt ask for a photo fag. and I meant faggot you homo. im not a fan so you can shove your signed photo up your ass. You would probably enjoy that. LOL!!!! Go suck your boyfriends dick in a gay club.
From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 2 September 2010 9.17pm
To: George Lewis
Subject: Re: Re: Re: No Subject
Dear George,
While I do not have a boyfriend, I do have a friend who is homosexual and I once asked him “Do you ever think about having sex with me because you are gay?” to which he replied “Do you ever think about having sex with Rosie O’Donnell because you are straight? Same thing.” If I was inclined to have a boyfriend, I would select one my height and weight to save having to readjust the driver’s seat position. I am not interested in doubling my wardrobe as I wear the same outfit everyday to facilitate speedy identification should I ever be in a boating accident.
Although I have never been to a gay club as such, when I was about ten, a friend and I constructed a club house in my backyard using timber stolen from a building site down the street. Our club, which we named ‘The Kiss Club’ due to a certain band being popular at the time, employed an intensive entry exam in which the applicant had to know all the words to Love Gun and not be a girl. As we had no other friends and knew no girls apart from my sister, this made sense at the time. The next day after school, having managed to recruit several new members by promising laminated membership cards and changing the entry exam to ‘knowing the names of the band members’, we all rode to my place to partricipate in our first club meeting only to discover my sister, outraged by the ‘no girls’ rule and armed with four litres of paint left over from a recent bedroom redesign, had painted the clubhouse pink and added ‘ing’ to the end of the word ‘Kiss’.
Also, despite your inference, I have managed, up to this point, to avoid putting most things in my bottom. Primarily due to the possibility that I might enjoy it, get carried away, and move on to watermelons or midsize family autos. When I was about eight, I drew a face on my hand and practiced kissing it, which I will admit is a little gay, and I have often thought there would be advantages to homosexuality such as Abercrombie & Fitch reward points, successful couch fabric selection capabilities and the gift of dance. With or without a top on. This would come in extremely useful if I needed five hundred dollars and saw a poster advertising a dance competition with a first prize of five hundred dollars.
Regards, David.
From: George Lewis
Date: Thursday 2 September 2010 9.33pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: No Subject
If you livd close by gaycunt I would be over your place with five friends tonight.
From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 2 September 2010 10.08pm
To: George Lewis
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: No Subject
Dear George,
I knew we would get along well. We have only known each other for one day and already you are organising a party. I am not sure where Gaycunt is but if I did “livd close by” to it, I would definitely be up for that.
We could all sit outside on banana lounges discussing the best way to rebuild a 4WD transmission and agree, through shared stories of conquests supporting our assertions, that there is no basis to the proposition that those least assured of their persuasions are the first to condemn others for theirs. Although the ideal would be for everyone to be capable of love without fear, restraint, or obligation, clearly this does not apply to homosexuals.
At no time during the night would you comment on how much you liked my Abercrombie & Fitch pants or ask “is that a Marcel Breuer couch? I love the fabric selection” and when we danced, we would all leave our tops on.
Regards, David.
From: George Lewis
Date: Friday 3 September 2010 1.18pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: No Subject
no fag I live in Charleston west virginia the best country in the world. I wasnt sying it would be a party. we would smash your fucking skull in and if you are calling me a fag you can get fucked becasue I have a girlfriend.
From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 3 September 2010 1.56pm
To: George Lewis
Subject: Yeehaw y’all
Dear George,
Is she also your sister? I checked out her photos on your Facebook page and while she is not exactly my type, I accept that other people have different preferences. Even when those preferences include facial tattoos and stretch pants constructed from sufficient material to shelter a small village. And their livestock. Some men enjoy dancing with other men without their tops on while others prefer the company of a woman two KFC family buckets away from upsetting the planet’s rotational axis.
I read somewhere that Eskimos prefer women of girth as it provides warmth at night. I have seen the size of those igloos though and there is no way your girlfriend would make it through the opening. You could probably just construct one around her and despite the hassle of having to trudge out into the snow every day to catch and prepare the eighty seals required to maintain her mass, it would be like a kiln in there.
If I were an Eskimo, I would build my igloo next to a supermarket or on a tropical beach.
Regards, David.
From: George Lewis
Date: Friday 3 September 2010 2.01pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Yeehaw y’all
She isnt fat you fag. and that she got that tattoo is a teardrop becasue her family is dead.
From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 3 September 2010 2.06pm
To: George Lewis
Subject: Re: Re: Yeehaw y’all
Did she eat them?
From: George Lewis
Date: Friday 3 September 2010 2.32pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Yeehaw y’all
Get fucked fag her family they died in a traffic accident. have some respect. Go put some more gel in your hair and dye it balck like a emo skinny fag. And how can you see my facebook page pictures?
From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 3 September 2010 3.02pm
To: George Lewis
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Yeehaw y’all
Dear George,
Yes, I have heard those motorhomes can be a bitch to steer. Especially around tight corners during a police chase or moonshine run.
I will concede to fifty percent of your description of me as a “skinny fag” being correct. If our bodies are temples, mine would be a heavily shelled Iranian mosque express. To rectify this, I have instigated a fitness and weight training regime. Once a week I carry two heavy garbage bags out to the sidewalk and jog back. As this week was my first session and I did not want to over exert myself, I took the car. Obviously with a few breaks in between to re-hydrate and stretch.
Although hardly an emo, I understand their pain. If I looked in the mirror and saw an anorexic version of Pugsly Adams staring back at me I would probably start cutting myself as well. I will admit to having dyed my hair once though. The product, misrepresented as ‘Natural Black’ instead of ‘Astro Boy black’, turned my hair as dark as an adequate simile describing just how black it actually was and stained my forehead and ears purple. In an attempt to blend the colour, I rubbed the remainder of the mixture onto my face, figuring it might look like a tan. I spent the following two weeks telling people that I could not leave the house due to agoraphobia, an illness usually self-diagnosed by the unemployed as an excuse to stay home and masturbate or play Wii.
I have access to your Facebook page due to the friend request you accepted from the Oscar Wilde profile I constructed yesterday. I assumed the name would hold no relevance to you and, consistency being the last refuge of the unimaginative, I typed ‘Redneck wearing baseball cap’ into google images to locate a photo you would identify and feel comfortable with.
Regards, David.
From: George Lewis
Date: Friday 3 September 2010 4.48pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Yeehaw y’all
Thats fraud. I will report you to the police and to facebook fag. i would shoot you in the face with my .32 if you were here right now.