Identity Theft or Personality Crises?

I've been duped. I feel like Oprah.

In the comments of my previous post, there was a most unfortunate misunderstanding involving my dear friend Mitchell and an internet impostor who fooled me with his linguistic trickery! It's just not like Mitch to post comments, especially on something as mundane as a Nacho Recipe. At first, I was amused, though somewhat suspicious. As long as I have known him, Mitch has never once indicated by word or action that he is literate in any way. Soon, more comments appeared, each stranger than the last. So, I called up Mitch and asked exactly what he thought he was doing? Claims of a relapse into Anal Compulsive Behavior involving a corncob, jalepenos and a curling iron, should have tipped me off as I happen to be the only foreign object that has seen the inside of Mitchell's bum since 1997. Still, I let my emotions get the best of me. I began to read the comments to him over the phone.

"Hold on a second," Mitch said before flushing the toilet and coming out of the bathroom. "What's all this now?" I showed him the comments and he just shrugged. You and your silly 'internet' thing! That has always been Mitch's attitude regarding my blog. "That's not me. Anyway, who cares? No one reads that shit anyway."

"It isn't shit!" I cried. "This is my ticket out of this hellhole! Mitchell, I am tired of you dismissing the things that are important to me! I work really hard on my blog in order to support you! I took you to the hospital when that girl sat on her lizard! I am always there for you and now I find out you've been shoving spicy peppers up your butt behind my back! It's over, Mitch. I can't do this anymore..." Then, for dramatic effect, I sank down to my knees and wept. Just then, my computer pinged, a signal that I had mail.

"What was that?" Mitch asked, ignorant of the technology. I sat up, wiped my eyes and clicked on my inbox. Sure enough, there is was: A new comment from "Mitch", posted while I had been ripping him a new one. I checked my watch to be sure. "Well," he persisted. "What was it?"

"It's a message from you."

"Transmitted, no doubt, from the computer I have lodged up my anus right now!" Mitch laughed. "Someone has been fucking with you, darling!" I stared at the computer screen in disgust and shame. I read over the comments again and the pain of how stupid I had been hit me hard. This time, real tears rolled down my face. I fell into a million little pieces. I looked to Mitch, full of regret and sorrow, and he turned away. Cold. Hurt. I tried to take his hand, but he pulled away.

"I'm sorry, Mitch. I don't know what happened. I just- I thought..." I was on the ground, clutching his pant leg. He pulled his keys out, a signal that he was leaving. I grew desperate. "Don't go! I'll do anything you want, just don't go!"

"Anything?" I looked up to see him smiling, one eyebrow raised. I knew what he was thinking and I knew that I would do it. In an effort to maintain some degree of decency here, I will not describe what happened next. Let it suffice to say that John Cougar Mellencamp got it right when he sang: "Hurt so good... Come on baby, make it hurt so good..." It's true, that sometimes love don't feel like it should but we all have to make sacrifices, right?

End of story, I let the Impostor know that I was onto him and no sooner had I done this, when a sort of bidding war broke out amongst some of the top names in news for the right to have us appear in a cooking segment on television! It's all there in the previous post! I can hardly believe it! It looks as if Mitch and I might become huge media cooking stars in the coming weeks! All my dreams are finally coming true!

Anyway, I should go now. I have to figure out how to give myself a much needed milk enema...