Once was bizzare, twice was just a bit too freaky even for me, but three times? THREE fucking times???? What the hell am I supposed to do with this woman?

So far I've now established that everyone's favorite stiff died aged 26 on 16th June 2006, on his bike, somewhere on the motorway around Birmingham. 8 months later, your's truly wonders casually into the local Vodafone store, gets a new phone and contract and inherits Ryan's whole damn family calling me.

What the hell am I supposed to do with the woman? I can't put the phone down on her, telling her to fuck off just isn't on, and not answering just finds me listening to voice mail messages, and talking to her is just fucking strange beyond words. And to make things more fun, this time she finished with the line "speak to you again soon."

Joy.

The thing is she's even remembering what little information she can get from me too. For some reason today she was asking me if I was married, engaged etc etc. I'm starting to wonder if this is becoming prophetic now. It's like having death watching over your shoulder, and Damocles sword hanging above my head. There's not many things that bother me at the end of the day, but this is starting to make it's way up the list quite rapidly.

It's not like I can block the number either as it's a safe bet that they've got at least 2 other lines they could use in its place.

Answers on a postcard kids.