Playing On Plenty of Fish


Playing around on Plenty Of Fish has taught me that very few chicks have a sense of humor. You’d be amazed at how outraged some of them get after reading my letter:

Stop everything you’re doing sweet cheeks. Everything! Throw on the breaks baby girl because this is where you get off. You’ve found me. Who? Me, that’s who. ‘The’ guy who you’ve always dreamed of finding but didn’t think you’d ever actually meet because your life sucks and you probably suffer from low self-esteem or depression or some other crazy shit. Let me be the first to congratulate you on hitting the motherfucking jackpot short stacks. You should never go to a Casino or play the lottery ever again because you will never be as lucky as you are at this very moment. Seriously, I envy you. If I could find a man as god-awesome incredible as me I’d pierce my nipples, grab some daisy dukes and turn into the biggest flaming fag bag you’ve ever seen. You are one lucky cunt.

I am your forever, you’re always, your eternity. I guarantee you will spend the rest of your life worshiping the ground I trod upon and loving every goddamn minute of it. The moment we meet you will very likely rape me stupid right there in the parking lot of Taco Bell. We will have such glorious, passionate fuck-making that we’ll probably kill each other in under a month. But you have to hurry. I need a commitment immediately. I’ve sent about a trillion of these letters out to every girl on pof who looked like they could walk upright without drooling and I’m only giving the first ten applicants a crack at happily-ever-after. We’ll have a runoff or something, I don’t know, but I’m kind of rooting for you. Do yourself a favor…no, strike that, do all of humanity a favor and write me back instantly. You’ve got till like the count of twenty…

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About thelastmonte

I'm a ninja for hire An ice cube on fire A soothsayer and liar Deceitful, dashing and dire A menacing muse muddling meanings in the mire My mind tumbles around like a cat in a dryer When it comes down to the wire I get lit like a pyre Kicking hobbits out the shire In jet black attire like a cocaine supplier And I aspire to acquire your ire Oh, and I also do freelance work.
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