Writer, photographer, "rapper" and general technophobe takes on the internet in what could be a very, very messy fight. But it's alright: she's harder than she looks, and she's wearing every single ring she could get her hands on.


Wednesday, 18 March 2009

My sister responds

"Ae yu famus enugh yet t buy me a pesent?" she emailed me. "Because Dan vmited n my laptp and nw the [R] and [O] and the [Q] key dn't wk. If you'e paying attentin, that means that nw my iPd, my phne and my laptp are brken. Please get ich and send me all f the abve uickly." 

I scrolled down.

"h," she added, "and if yu lie about me, I'm ging t either sue yu r beat yu up, I haven't decided yet. But it'll be bad. Lve lve lve."

I don't lie, sister. As a writer of fiction, I may sometimes stretch the truth for the good of the story. That's not lying: that's using your imagination. Just ask Clinton.

And no, Tara, I can't buy you a laptop. I can't even buy a WHAM bar from the newsagents, so distinct is my poverty. I suggest you get a pen out and write your Rs and Os and Qs on the computer screen as you go. And keep technology away from the toilet and your boyfriend. x