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Old 09-Dec-17, 20:58
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schatten_PhD schatten_PhD is offline
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Default Re: November 2017: Stacyann

Originally Posted by HermanDG [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]
CHAPTER 02: What We Have Here Is A Failure To Communicate

One of the first posts that I read when first joining was a story called “Fight After the Fight”. It was part of a series written by “Stacyann” that detailed her experiences as a frequent combatant — one who seemed as comfortable in a martial arts Gi as she was slugging it out in the altogether as bit of a catfighter / mixed wrestling dom. While I was always one to take anything that I read on Internet forums with a LARGE grain of salt, whether the accounts were true or not, they were entertaining and ridiculously sexy.

If the stories were true, then I had no doubt that “Stacyann” was a capably formidable martial artist and most likely a babe. If they weren’t true, then those stories were still entertaining and ridiculously sexy, with the only difference being that “Staceyann” was then — likely — a middle aged dude with a beer gut and a penchant for writing fetish laden fiction.

To be sure, the smart money was riding on Option 2 being the most probable case.

Either way, given that Staceyann had taken the time to reach out to me, I took it as a compliment and — to start — I gave the benefit of the doubt and led in a cordial manner. Canadians — that’s just how we are wired.

I figured if nothing else, kill with kindness — “Stacyann” had gone out of “her” way to reach out — so regardless of the fact that she had waded in with a bit of challenge, I took that as being more to hype “her” online persona than anything else. At the end of the day, I chose to focus on the compliment rather than the mild taunt.

What came back as a reply continued to puzzle me.

Wow. Rude and presumptuous.

Given that I had generally considered “Stacyann” to be an internet persona that acted as a mask for some 40 year old IT hack who likely had not personally witnessed daylight in a live setting since about 1982, I figured the time for considerate dialogue had passed.

Some people’s kids. However, my pal was not done playing. A new message popped up like a teenage erection at the thought of the SI Swimsuit Issue.

Seriously, cowboy was really going to the wall with his characterization. I’m not sure that he realized that there wasn’t an Oscar for “Best Impersonation of an Amazonian Über Gladiator by a Faceless Schmo on an Internet Message Board”. He deserved the imminent sarcasm and disdain that he’d be getting.

I had to know that the reply was coming. Xena the Warrior Princess would obviously have his knickers in a bunch by reading me calling him on his bullshit. Without fail came the response.

Good Grief — he had definitely mastered the fine art of female angst. Obviously I was dealing with a special type, so I decided to test his commitment to his fantasy relative to administrative detail.

I giggled to myself. I was sure that we were getting close to the drop point of the whole ordeal. If not, I had a bit of a longer term plan to weed “Stacyann” out as a troll. It wasn’t like I had anything against the guy, but at this point, it was almost like an online wrestling match and I was just working the heavy game so that I could make my friend tap out.

He definitely proved to be a “goer”…

Oh the bold posturing. It was vintage Russell Crowe “Are you not entertained?!!” hysterics in the Coloseum. I decided that it was time for the “ground and pound” designed to break the will of my little internet fraud/bridge troll.

For years, I had been a diehard San Diego Chargers fan. It had begun with Dan Fouts and Kellen Winslow during the monsoon in Miami and then had continued over the years with the Natrone Means, Junior Seau and Ladanian Tomlinson eras. This year, as a fun road trip, I had bought tickets to see the Bolts play in Dallas on American Thanksgiving — November 23. I couldn’t wait to go, it was fixing to be the highlight of my year, especially if the San Diego won.

Seeing that I would already be in the US anyway, I figured I’d give ol’ Stacyann a title shot — that is if he could (a) materialize as a woman and (b) make it to Dallas.

Buddy showed no quit in maintaining his ruse. Bless his heart, he really wanted to be a super hot, Kung Fu cutie. The fucker was probably sitting at home playing with Barbies.

Oh, the temerity. God love the anonymity of the internet…

To be continued….
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