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Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Sit On Myspace And Tell Me That You Love Me #5

Okay, okay, so I received this particular moist and poetic come-on via email, not Myspace, but come on. That title is the best pun I’ve ever used, and I’m clinging onto it like the last midget at a… a midget… capturing… party. Shut up. They have those.

If you need to catch up, you can read about how I’ve been relentlessly pursued by amorous digital suitors of all genders here. I guess they single me out because they heard I have a nipple-shaped birthmark on the top of my head. Extra nipple = value for money. It's simple economics. And sexy.

Except they didn’t single me out. The following email was sent to six people, all with the same first name as me. My new stalker is such. A slut. Here’s what she said, with my comments.

From: Lina

Sent: Friday 25 November 2011 5:10:04 AM


Okay, so you’re after someone good. I’m good. You’re after someone old. I’m… depends on your definition of ‘old’. You want someone ‘counrty’. I guess you’ve misspelled one of two words there, so I might be able to help you. But if you want a boy without apostrophes, you have come to the wrong place, Lina. I am a girl with many, many nipples apostrophes.


Privet? That’s a hedge. It’s a hedge. Although in this case I’ll just assume it’s a euphemism for pubic hair dressed up as a greeting, in which case I’ll respond with: Labia to you, my friend!

The greatest tragedy of life is not that the men perish, but that they cease to love.

Yeah, well I’ve got a bit of a policy that after they perish, I kind of leave them alone. There’s a bunch of laws relating to loving on after they’ve died, Lina.

There is an ocean between us, my honey, and I wish that it were not true, for every day when I awake I yearn to be with you.

You should buy your honey from somewhere else. Problem solved.

There are many miles between us, my love, though you are always here in my heart.

I get it. We’re a long way away from each other. Get on Skype and I’ll do you a little dance to take the edge off. They’re all my own moves, too, unless you’ve seen the music video for Michael Jackson’s ‘Bad’.

I feel you and imagine our first meeting under the starts.

Feeling me makes you spell badly? Maybe I should wax or something.

Every night beneath the silver starlight I pray for the day we will never part

That day is totally here! I promise you, we will never part. We will stay exactly as close as we are now forever and ever.

Sweet goodbye

Li N

Bye, darling. Or should I say: Privet!

I just can't understand why I only attract borderline-illiterate lesbians. It's probably my deodorant.