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I am deadlyjelly. I'm mad as hell and I cant take it any more.
I have a confession: Ive been writing deadlyjelly since the inception.
It all started when I watched Jack Nicholson in As good as it gets. He said to write as a woman all you had to do was "I think of a man, and I take away reason and accountability".
I wondered if it was that easy. Turns out it was.
At least until last week.
How was I to know that ;
1) There was a real Niamh Shaw
2) That she was actually a writer and
3) That she'd seen DeadlyJelly.
Now the real Niamh Shaw has lawyered up, and I have received a cease and desist letter in the post.
I worry. I wonder what will happen to Hunkahubby and Jed, now I'm gone. I mean - I used to worry about world peace but this - well this kinda takes precedence.
But mostly I agonize about the posts that I have written that will never see the light of day. The true saga of the windmill power generator - Jeds next big life adventure, and My (sorry) Niamh's next attempt to cross Cook Straight.
All this will be lost now. Lost in the legal read tape of the real Niamh Shaw. The Niamh Shaw that knits doilies and writes love stories from her spinsters apartment in Dublin, fricking Ireland.
This Niamh Shaw is no Lara Croft - this Niamh Shaw is more likely to turn deadlyjelly into a recipe of the week blog - or even worse carry on in a feeble attempt to continue the life of my fricking heroine.
Gone will be the margaritas and ice cold sea swims. Gone the glory of Jed chasing a tennis ball down a rugged Blenheim mountainside - Gone the Hunkahubby and his glorious KTM.
I fully expect that even i will no longer feature.
And that, dear reader - will be a tragedy of epic proportions. :)