She wrote:
“I am stuck inside this Christmas due to being on house arrest (nothing bad, assault) and looking to treat myself to a special christmas gift. I am looking for a hot guy this is in shape is between the ages of 21 and 28 to come over and spread some holiday cheer. You must be good looking, work out regularly, well endowed, and energenic. I like clean cut white guys. This could become a regular NSA think if we click. Send a pic if this is you. No pic = no repsonse.”
John wrote:
Hey baby,
Man, being on house arrest for Christmas sucks! I remember when I was put on house arrest for being too sexy (seriously. I flashed my junk at a senior citizens’ home which I guess all those unsexy wrinkle bags have a problem with…) Being cooped up in the house too long really makes you go crazy. I made up an imaginary friend named Travis the Penguin during my house arrest. Seriously. Travis didn’t have a stick up his ass and didn’t mind when I flashed him my junk. He actually kind of liked it, I think. I don’t know, he died. :(
Good news is, I’m no longer on house arrest! Hooray! So, I was looking for some holes to bang and I came across your ad and it was like, whoa! A chick on house arrest! The first thing I thought was, she DEFINITELY wouldn’t mind if I flashed her my junk. Plus, I guess we have something in common to talk about and shit if that’s important to you. My junk is really big. Seriously. Sometimes I like hold it in my hand and flap it around a little so it looks like a snake and I make it talk like George Bush. Everyone thinks it’s really funny. Except old people. But I guess that doesn’t matter because I’m not allowed to volunteer at the home anymore…
So, assault, huh? That’s awesome. Was it a chick fight? You know what would be so hot? I could bring over a spatula and we could re-enact the chick fight with the spatula and my junk. The spatula could be you and my junk will be the other chick. Don’t worry, I can make my junk talk in a high-pitched voice too. I’ll even practice a little beforehand: “You’re a bitch!” “No, you’re a bitch!” “No, you’re a bitch!” On second-thought, I guess that’s kind of dumb. You probably have your own spatula. But if you don’t, let me know. I’ll bring mine over.
Let’s see…what else should I tell you about myself? Okay, this is embarrassing, but I really, really like poetry. I was reading some stuff by this dude Walt Whitman and it like made me cry and shit. Seriously. Then afterward, I made my junk recite the poems in the mirror.
Also, I’m really into time-travel. I definitely think it’s possible and (I know this sounds crazy, but) I think I did it once. I was standing at the mirror, shaking my junk around reciting “O Captain, My Captain,” when everything got really wavy and the next thing I knew I saw dinosaurs and volcanoes and shit. I didn’t know what to do, so I made my junk roar like a T-Rex and the dinosaurs all got really scared and ran away. Then the ground lit up in multi-colored sqaures and disco music started playing so I did a little celebration dance. Next thing I knew I was back in my room. Weird, huh? I wrote a letter to Stephen Hawking asking him what he thinks about it, but he hasn’t gotten back to me yet. That ever happen to you?
Anyway, write me back. House arrest sucks!
-John Kirby
