Johan’s Blog: Talking Stalking!

I thought this kind of thing only happened to celebrities, but just a few weeks ago I realized that I had a stalker. At first I felt quite honoured about it, but it wasn’t long before it developed into a rather scary problem.
It all began some months ago with some seemingly innocent letters and e-mails. I love getting mail (of any description) from by fans, but it’s obviously a little unusual to receive communications from the same person day after day. What’s more, the things that he wrote became increasingly personal. First he told me that he liked my work and my movies. Then he mentioned that he was in love with me. Finally he said that he wanted to marry me. You get the idea, I’m sure …
Why is it that fans always say that they “love” their idol and want to live with them? The fact of the matter is that they don’t really know anything about the person they idolize. A movie star plays out a role, a famous singer lives according to the image that supports his music sales. So when people tell me in their letters that they love me I feel a strange mix of honour and bewilderment. After all, the only thing they know about me is my body and my cock – not my personality or any of my foibles or dirty secrets. Even my boyfriend – who I’ve known now for more than three years – is still surprised sometimes when he discovers some new little detail about me!
Anyway, back to my stalker. After a while he started to send me photos – not of his face, but with close-up shots of his (hard) cock, open ass and so forth. Given his wrinkles and belly it’s clear that this fellow is over 60 years of age – so it’s not hard to appreciate that the said photos are not exactly the sort of thing that you want to browse through over your breakfast! Geez, they’re the kind of images that remain with you for the rest of the day!
Then the other week he started to send me packages of used underwear – Large size, as it happens! Old pants that he’d obviously worn for several days on the trot without changing, with brown, yellow and dubious (!!) stains. Accompanying these were some used white tennis socks – also smelly, dirty and (from the look of them) very much the worse for a minimum of four days in sport shoes! But excuse me, that’s definitely not my sort of thing! I like sex to be clean. Sweat’s okay if you’re sweaty because of playing sport or having sex. But not old sweat, cum or shit in unwashed pants! Uuurgh!!!
Then things really started to turn scary, when he followed me and my boyfriend. I have no idea how he found my address, but one day we noticed an older guy standing on the opposite side of the road to our house. Then, when I left the house to walk to a restaurant or a bar or even to do a bit of shopping, he followed behind by a short distance. Whenever I stopped to turn to confront him he immediately disappeared around the next corner – but he was always back at the front of our house the following day. As I’m sure you can imagine – this all scared the shit out of me!
I began to get paranoid, constantly checking behind me to see if he was about around. Sometimes I was even too scared to leave the house; and both my boyfriend and I found ourselves continually watching our backs whenever we travelled around the city.
Needless to say, we went to the police, but all they said (incredibly!) was that they couldn’t do anything for us until he’d actually physically attacked us! The Czech Republic is a free country, they informed us, and it’s not against the law to stand in a street in front of someone’s house or to walk around following someone!
This went on every day for almost a fortnight – at which point he suddenly disappeared. He no longer stood in front of our house, and the letters and parcels stopped. Not that I’m sorry about that, of course, but the sudden turnaround of events left me with somewhat mixed emotions, which surprised me considerably and which I’ve discussed with one of my friends quite a bit ever since. I mean, what exactly is going on in this man’s mind? Why has he suddenly stopped stalking me? Doesn’t he like me anymore? Doesn’t he find me sexy? Have I become fat? The truth is, I don’t know; in fact, maybe he doesn’t even know himself.
Well, by the time you read these lines you’ll already have celebrated the festive season. Maybe you still have a headache from a mammoth party on the big night; or maybe you’ve even broken all the good intentions that you promised you’d take on New Year’s Eve …
Personally, I have a live show lined up for New Year and will be partying with friends in Berlin with lots of alcohol and plenty of horny sex on-stage. Now that’s what I call a fantastic start to the New Year! Fingers crossed you’ll be enjoying, or have enjoyed, something very similar!

I wish you all the best for 2011.

Kisses, Johan