Anyway, this isn't a real post, but I don't like to leave the word "Dildo" at the top of the page for more than a week, because it tends to attract spam the way a blue serge suit collects lint. Speaking of which (spam, not lint), while cleaning out my mailbox I came across another heartfelt plea from a moribund millionaire (who knew so many of the 1% were withering on the vine -- is there no end to Obama's healthcare fails??) and thought I'd better reply to my plutocratic pen pal quickly, before the Angel of Death showed up and started shoving him through the eye of a needle.
Dearly BelovedWe are gathered here today 2 get through this thing called Life.
This letter may come to you as a surprise due to the fact that we have not yet met.
Actually, I prefer it that way. I like to drag out the catfishing as long as possible.
Firstly, I have to say that I have no intentions of causing you any pain.
What! You're the worst mail order dominatrix ever!
My name is Mr.Richard Atherton, a European merchant.
I'm just going to assume, based on your self description, that you're gadding about in a brocaded cloak and Elizabethan neck ruffle.
I have been diagnosed with Prostate and Esophageal cancer that was discovered very late due to lack of caring for my health.
If you came down with simultaneous ass and mouth cancer, I'm going to guess it had less to do with skipped wellness visits, and more to do with your middle position in the Human Centipede.
It has defiled all form of medicine
Really? All forms? How the hell did your prostate manage to taint my Tums? Wait...I don't want to know...
...and right now, I have only about a few months to live according to medical experts. I have not particularly lived my life so well, as I never really cared for anyone not even myself but my business.Though I am very rich, I was never generous, I was always hostile to people and only focus on my business as that was the only thing I cared for. But now I regret all this as I now know that there is more to life than just wanting to have or make all the money in the world.At least, that's what the three ghosts who visited you on Christmas Eve said.
I use to say to my self that if God should give me a second chance I would live differently from how I have lived. I was meditating on my hospital bed and something told me that God is giving me a second chance by keeping me alive though doctors said I won’t last long.
Yeah, that sound less like God giving you a second chance and more like a cat toying with a lizard before it bites off its head.
Hence, I do not trust them anymore, as they seem not to be content with what I have left for them.
Maybe I'm just naturally suspicious, but if the only thing keeping me alive was my doctors, I wouldn't be in a real big hurry to tell them about the large bequest they'll be receiving as soon as I die.
The last of my money which is a huge cash deposit that I have with a security firm will be put in your care if only you will agree and are capable of seeing this through.
Actually, I'm kind of a quitter.
Be there. Aloha.
I want you to help me collect this deposit and dispatched it to charity organizations of your choice and let them know that it is I Richard Atherton that is making this generous donation.Again, I know myself, and even if some of your huge cash deposit makes it to the Zimbabwe Rotary Club, or the Save The Monkfish people, I'll probably succumb to my natural childishness and tell 'em the donation came from Hugh Jass, or I. P. Freely.
I am writing this from my laptop computer in my hospital bed where I wait for my time to come. I pray for you to support and assist me with a good heart."In the meantime, I will meditate upon my mortality while farting around at Webkinz."
I hope we can build a relationship based on trust because I want to do this by all means possible before I die.Hey, I understand, tiger, believe me. Unfortunately, I'm married and have a bad back, and I suspect your mouth and ass cancer are going to limit at least a few of those possibilities.
Be blessed my beloved,Same to you, Dick!
Mr.Richard Atherton
Be there. Aloha.
6 comments:
I have heard that when the Angel of Death shows up, she shoves a needle through your eye.
~
Yeah, that sound less like God giving you a second chance and more like a cat toying with a lizard before it bites off its head.
Yeah, my cat used to do this in the garden of the bungalow court we once lived in, and then of course he'd deposit by-then decapitated and gutted rag of a carcass on the front doormat. Thanks, Cato!
Which brings me to Simone Simon's scene in Cat People, in which she absolutely nails the grim and awful fascination of a cat toying with a helpless victim, as she chases a bird in a cage with her hand, ultimately killing it. I don't know how she did it-- her eyes seemed to light up in the exact same way.
This is why, when I was still single -- and although I was generally broadminded, and never really had a "type," per se -- I had one rule: Never. Date. Serbian Chicks.
I, for one, appreciate that you took the word "Dildo" off the top of the page.
I, for one, would rather read the alluring prose of Mr. Richard Atherton (where do they get these names??) any time than have to look at John Fund's creepy executive-level-serial-killer puss for one more moment.
So, yeah, thanks, what a relief.
OT but I have a foster kitty
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