I want you all to stop haranging the love of my life…There, I said it. I love Mary. I’m writing a poo haiku too.
Here’s what I said to the love of my life.
http://communities.msn.com/JimmyNipplesSoundClipPage/files.dca
Click on “Morning Show Clips” and see mary2.wav
ROFLMBFAO
Jimmy, Good Lord man, you have it bad ! Am I invited to the wedding ?
That was VERY funny. I wonder how many prank calls she gets every day.
Yes, I wonder, too.
I don’t feel like writing this again, so I am just going to paste what I wrote in the original thread about her.
This is starting to make me sad, and i’m already ashamed that i thought calling her would be funny.
Here’s my post from that thread.
Sorry that I’m being squaresville now, but I brought myself to read more of her site and while most people have made jokes about how she needs serious help…
It’s not a joke. I feel bad. This woman obviously suffers from depression, among other things.
I think this website could be a case study in a psych textbook, a portrait of an obsessive-compulsive-dependent disorder? Or maybe something else? Or a little from each column?
I don’t know if she has any particular mental illness that could be named and classified, but there is a serious problem with this woman.
Even worse, people have told her so and in her twisted reality, she can’t possibly see this.
She would never seek help because she thinks she doesn’t need it.
I don’t think that a whole bunch of fake calls to her in response to her personal is going to improve her problem, whatever it may be.
It doesn’t help to make fun of these people. And someday if this fragile fantasy of hers is shattered somehow, she is going to take it really, really hard- she will probably never get over it.
Except-
I admit it’s funny, and I can pull away from it and laugh at her, but I changed my mind about agreeing that anyone should call her just to report to us how it went.
It’s extremely unkind.
She is just fixated on this fantasy that doesn’t exist, and none of us can help her…
Sigh…
The world is really sick.
Still won’t work/…
Could someone fix it for me?
Pwetty pwease?
No offense, Turp…
Call me cruel. Call me callous. Call me a mean son of a bitch, but…
If we were to go about feeling bad for every nutcase, lunatic, windbag, jackass, dipshit and moron that populated the earth, and furthermore presented themselves to the entire world as such to the best of their abilities, well, I’m afraid that we would never feel happy again.
I like to feel happy. I like to laugh. Sometimes, I like to laugh at sad, sad people.
This is not to say that people with mental illness are particularly funny, although they certainly can be. I guess I’m referring to those people, like our dear friend Mary, who are just a little bit tweaked.
Besides, Jimmy is in the radio business. This dumbass lady is a potential goldmine!!
Turpentine, I know what you mean, but obviously this woman has been told, many times, that she needs help, yet she continues to live in her little fantasy world. She has set herself up for all she gets. If it bothered her at all, she’d take down that web page and change her phone number. She just doesn’t care what anyone thinks, so I therefore refuse to feel bad for laughing at her.
In case you’re (like me) wondering who this “Mary” is, her site is here:
Oh, I know she’s a nutcase, part of the thing that is getting to me is that she will NEVER seek help because she just can’t SEE that she needs it.
I don’t have a problem with making fun of her and laughing about this on the message board and posting it all over the internet, but people who are calling her… that’s different. Nobody thinks that’s a bit too far?
Nobody sees why it’s wrong to have someone (assuming they could clear all the hurdles) go on a date with this woman just for our own amusement?
It’s a bit like a freak show, looking at pictures of the freaks in books and pointing them out to your friends is different than going out of your way to call one and expect everyone to cheer at how clever you are for fucking with them.
first time poster so i’m doing a test run before i say what i really think. i have no shame. make fun of me all you want. go ahead.
ok. it worked.
…dodging grapefuits and other loser 'phanalia being tossed my way…
i’ve been viewing the mary thread(s) all week. having an inner battle because the compassionate me wants to just feel bad for her while the rubberneck me wants to peruse the latest.
decided that i’m not getting a kick out of some freak as much as i’m really wondering if she’s for real. at this point i’m split 50/50. you read some of the stuff and think, this is sad and it’s sincere. but then i think, no it’s some guy/gal/sheep holed up somewhere creating a website that’s going to generate some talk. we’ll probably see/hear mary on howard stern soon. then you read the ‘positive’ feedback and realize that a whole bunch of people think she’s just fine.
guess whichever it is, it’s probably a good study in something…
Hope you and Mary find happiness over in MPSIMS 
Am I the only one having problems trying to open the file? 
No, you’re not alone…will someone please convert and fix it for us?
Sorry guys…I can’t explain why you’re having problems with getting to the sound file. Probably its because I don’t know what the problem is.
Can you get to my page? Tell me what’s happening.
http://communities.msn.com/JimmyNipplesSoundClipPage/files.dca
This link should get you to the files page. Click on “Morning Show Clips” and then click on mary2.
Works fine for me Jimmy. But then I have a cable modem.
Everytime I go to download it, it cuts off and says something like error or Not Responding something…wait, let me see…
Connection Refused-
I hope you realize it will please me very much if your haiku about my poo does not rhyme in any way. About 30% of the haiku that men have written about my excrement has rhymed, either unintentionally or not, and I had to end the relationship right there on the fourth date. So please do not waste all the time and research you’ve done about me by writing a rhyming haiku. Remember - 5-7-5 - the magic number that is haiku.
I am very wise, smart, wonderful, beautiful, modest, and easy-going, and I don’t think it’s too much trouble for you to compare my poopy to wildflowers and other beautiful things in order to have the privilege of being near me and having me order you around in a non-sexual way.
On our fifth date, assuming I approve of the poem presented on the fourth date, you will need to wear blue socks and recite the Emily Dickinson poem “Because I Could Not Stop For Death” to the tune of “The Yellow Rose of Texas.” Then you will give me a small, freshly cleaned turnip wrapped in three sheets of periwinkle tissue paper. As soon as you hand me the turnip, you must stop speaking and leave immediately. I will go home and turn my phone bells off. The following day I will turn my phone bells on and await your call to arrange our next date. My name is Mary.
That includes spaying and/or neutering, delousing, and deworming, which I insist is done by hand on the sixth date, right after I wash my hair. I am easygoing. My name is Mary.