Sealey Fan Mail

I got home this morning wondering whether or not I had anything to write about today… Certainly a couple of things had made me smile for different reasons, but would they segue in a pleasing way… Hmmm… Maybe? 2 seperate things can be tricky to link sometimes without feeling forced or contrived… 3 things… Usually much easier… Bang on cue, there’s a knock on the door and 3 arrives… As I lift the box from the doorstep, I realise I’ve not only been delivered my segue but also my post title… I have Sealey fan mail!

Number 3… A new Sealey fan! I laugh as I ordered this a couple of days ago when temperatures were high and I was sick of the warm air hanging densely… No escape, even in the garden, no wind, no movement… Nauseating heat that brings weird dreams in between waking hours mostly spent drinking fluids, getting annoyed at sweating without moving, and wondering how much it would cost to hire a couple of vertically challenged people to walk either side of you, to hold up your boobs and periodically apply ice… Oh the joys of humidititties… But of course, England being England, the fan arrives and now the weather is pissing it down and passable for November… The heat that I thought would last forever has gone… Exactly like I knew it would but I still fall for it every year…

Let’s move back in time to number 1… Let’s move a little further back to last night when before going to bed, I laid out my Russian Gypsy Fortune Cards… “You will receive a gift very soon.” they told me. I laughed! Wrong! You got it wrong! Your time line is out! I’ve been inundated with gifts of late… All week! Everyone I cross paths with has been gifting me. I was kind of pleased to get a ‘wrong’ reading as I have a love/hate relationship with fortune-telling and these cards have been freaky accurate in ways hard to ignore, every time that I’ve used them… 7.30am this morning, I’m the recipient of a Thank You card and chocolates… Damn! I still can’t dismiss fortune-telling out of hand… Though that’s not going to stop me from telling people I don’t believe in it…

Number 2… Maybe strictly speaking, not fan mail but a text from a male fan is close enough to slide things together… When it came through, I was sat in the Galaxy with a girl… My phone  linked via Bluetooth, I  hit the hear now button and female android voice churns out stilted syllables…

Girl hears text and feigns mock horror…

“Oh! He really is such an asshole!”

I laugh and reply “Yeah but he still loves me! Hahaha! Like I need that kind of love! Shove your love! Just fucking turn up on time!”

“Jesus! Why do men think it’s OK to keep doing that? Oh! I love you! Oh, yes, I cheated on you but I love you and so it’s OK and now I’m going to cheat on you again… Karen? Why do they do this?”

“Because they think it’s a universal get out of jail free card…”

“Yes, they do! Where do they get these stupid ideas from?”

“Because women buy into their bullshit…”

“Fuck off! What? There are women who believe this?”


I sit and get flashbacks from some of the crazier questions I’ve been asked as a tarot reader… Let’s just mush together lots of similar questions to give an anonymous general overview… And give you some insight as to why I’m prickly about fortune-telling…

“Do you see marriage on the cards?”


“Yes, but that’s just short-term? How about long-term? When will he marry me?”


“I mean, I know he’s slept with my sister… Twice… Oh and then that one time, he slept with my best friend but you can’t count that because she’s a slag… And yeah, he did get handsy with my mum, but he was pretty drunk… And I know he stole from my purse, but he will pay me back when he gets a job once he’s out of prison… And… “

“Sorry? Why do you want to marry this guy?”

“Because we’re soul mates! Surely you can see that in your cards?!”

“I can see you have a lot of lessons to learn… Tell me… What exactly makes you think you’re soul mates…?”

“Because, every time he comes back, he says he still loves me… What should I do?”

“Fuck his brother… Or his dad….”

“What? I can’t do that he’d kill me!”

“Yeah, you can… Just tell him you still love him…”

“You’re a shit psychic!”

“Thank you! Don’t come again!”

The back door opens and my text pest gets in… Oh Karen! I love you!

I check his eyes in my rear view mirror… I’ve seen how he talks to a few girls and how he often has a look in his eyes and smug smile that says ‘I own this bitch…’

He’s looking sheepish and not wanting to meet my eye… I decide that I won’t kill him today…

“Oh, you love me hahahaha of course you do! Get in the queue! Oh… And set your alarm earlier you lazy fuck or tomorrow you walk.”

“Karen, I’m sorry! I’ll be early tomorrow. I promise… And actually I do love you.”

“Thank you… I love you too, with a love that lasts like an English heatwave… And with all the heat of winter rain… I love you like I love driving behind wobbly cyclists going up hill… I love you like I love joggers in neon lycra, like… Oh… Like cupcakes with no icing… Like…

“Alright! I’m sorry! Stop with your bullshit…”

“I will if you will…”

I fix his eye in the rear view mirror and mimic the smile I remember and the “I own you bitch” look… He’s not dead but he’s red and I’m willing to bet he’ll be on time tomorrow…

So, I’ve been repeatedly gifted this week so here’s my gift to the ‘Oh but he loves me” crowd…

Talking the talk is easy… If you’re getting played it’s because you’re playing in to the game…Walk your walk and walk away… Love from a shit psychic 😘

Though I’m willing to bet my words fall on deaf ears… But hey… It’s OK because he still loves you… Eternal and never fading… Like snow on the desert sand…

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