Dear Lightning,
I heard thunder. Something about 500 watts of attention and you'd shine, on parchment, of ones and zeroes.
And I ain't read nuffim'.
If you or the weathermen think I ain't gonna pull out that almanac and read it, and comment on it, I beg to differ. You're the one reading my, newspaper. Which you went to the rack to grab.
And I ain't begging. I am disappointed yer a scaredy cat. Ms. Perfect can make perfect comedy but not write perfect things. Except you can. By you writing it, it's perfect by default.
Also, you can only get better the more you publish. You've left stuff up that will not, be as good as whatever it is you put out now.
Pun intended. For me. I'm expecting it. The sex in real life kind of put out. Dudette. I don't care, who fucks you and this is true, I am better. Not only was I the pussy whisperer long ago, now I can fuck like a wrecking ball.
It'll be like 50,000 Shades of Grey.
*****
What's been up how's your daughter Stan?
I saw my ex-best friend have sex with his girlfriend in the front seat of his truck while listening to that. Or that night. You wanna talk about pleasantly unpleasant. She kissed me once just to be nice.
She is so not hot now. I tried to fuck her years later when she wasn't yet but she demurred. And now she's disgusting fat and a mom which is double whammy funny. FUCKED UP SHE DID. Cause whoever she's with is a loser. They get to be losers together. Middle aged and wanting to die. Enjoy!
ALL BOYS ARE LOSERS BUT ME. You can't be mad when that comes true. I won't be sad.
I WANNA KNOW WHY YOU WENT TO DO A SKETCH WITH YOUR N!GGER AND WEREN'T IN THE F@G'S SKETCH.
xoxoxo
LightningLover.com