16 June 2006

I'm flattered. Really.

But honestly, Jenny, you need to stop flooding my bulk e-mail box with your "Wanna hook up tonight?" messages. I know I've been "personally" invited, and that does make me feel ever so special. I'm sure you're a really nice girl and all, but ... well, I like the cock. I love it, in fact.

You've been personally invited to Signup FREE.

Find someone who thinks like you (between the sheets)

And don't think you're going to trick me into signing up by changing your e-mail display name from Jenny to Jennifer. Come on. Do I look that dumb? Then again, seeing several of those e-mails every day eventually got me to open one. Seeing more even got me to write a blog about the e-mails. And now, someone might actually click on those links and sign up for whatever the hell it is that you're peddling. You clever whore!

Too bad you aren't offering free porn. 'Cause I would have been all over that shit. Oh, Jenny. You need to try something better next time.

The second statement with the parenthetical "between the sheets" makes me think of the practice of adding "in bed" to your fortune. Are you finding someone between the sheets who thinks the same way you do? It's pretty rare to meet people in your own bed. Maybe it means you'll meet them at department store, standing between the 750-count Ralph Lauren sheets and the 800-count Calvin Kleins. I know exactly jack shit about sheets and thread counts, except that a bigger number means better.

Or are you finding someone who has the same "between the sheets" mentality? Are you telling me that there is someone out there who also enjoys incorporating rubber sheets, chocolate/vanilla swirl pudding and tiara-wearing monkeys riding miniature horses in the bedroom? Hypothetically, speaking, of course. Dammit, Jenny. You need to be more clear.

I'm quite obviously spending entirely too much time thinking about this. But it's Jenny's fault. She's gotten into my head.

You're on your own, Dear Reader, should you click those links.

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