This morning I received an email from Sage that tugged at my heart strings and begged to be replied to. However, me being me meant that my reply had to be one of my, now infamous, pointless letters.
Here’s the conversation thread, with her email appearing first…
Subject: Hello, stallion! Stop killing your time surfing the Web and come to me!
My name is Sage. In three words about myself – pretty, mad and free. I get so lonely from time to time these days. Why a well-hung fellow like you shouldn’t call a lustful queen like me to spend the most splendid time together? Do you prefer to play hard or is it more enjoyable for you to make it slowly dwelling on each moment? I can realize every fantasy you have. Look at my profile right now and let us fly away together! (link)
Subject: Your stallion is here, my love…
In three words about myself - old, bald and flatulent.
Thank you for your delightful email. I have to say that I feel flattered and as soon as I read your email I knew you were the one for me. It’s lovely of you to say that I’m well-hung - that’s the first time anyone has uttered those words to me. Normally, I receive comments expressing shock, disappointment and disbelief… the nickname ‘pee wee’ has been uttered on more than one occasion.
For several years I’ve yearned for a lustful queen to spend splendid time with. So your timing couldn’t be more opportune… if also several years late. I won’t hold that against you though. I mean, they say that you happen upon love just when you least expect it. Well, imagine my surprise for it to arrive via an email this very morning. Lucky for you, I have recently become single following a split with my girlfriend. She was a nice girl… someone once said that if she had two more legs she could have starred in a Western. I’m not quite sure what they meant by that…
I would love to have a look at your profile before I decide to fly away with you. It’s a sensible suggestion because I don’t know what you look like (not that that matters, as we are certain to spend splendid time together). I should, however, like to check whether you’re a 6ft tall blonde with the features of a supermodel or a bald, 4ft dwarf with a big nose. It makes sense, you see - if it’s the latter then I can book you a child seat on the plane…
How lovely of you to enquire about my preferences. I have to say that I like to play hard, particularly when challenging my cat Geoffrey to a game of tiddlywinks. He’s a bad ass, you see, and he takes no prisoners. I initially gave him a home after finding him on the street at night, bullying beggars out of their hard earned change. I’m hoping that with time he will recover from his addiction to prostitutes, gambling and glue sniffing.
I must admit that I really love the thought that you can realise every fantasy I have. Indeed, if you have the connections to order me a unicorn, and get it to stand in a bath of custard whilst I eat my dinner off its back then that would truly make my day. Oh, and Geoffrey has requested a blonde call-girl, carrying a vat of UHU (he’s cutting down to a less-addictive form of glue).
Love and hugs always.
Onion P.S: Let’s make stuffing together.