Attention, Internet women. You may stop e-mailing me. I have gotten your e-mails and those of your friends. I understand your concerns that I am not getting enough sexual intercourse, and your willingness to engage in a wide range of activities (although some of which, including the thing with the horse, I have no interest in). However, I am currently unavailable for such things and, in fact, would be wary of women who advertise the fruits of their loins with the wide freedom you seem to possess.
I also feel obligated to mention that you should probably invest in some manner of spell-checking program, as you often inadvertently misspell common vulgarities, sometimes even to the point of substituting numerals which appear similar in place of the appropriate letters! You may indeed be ‘S3XY,’ but we must remember Judith Martin (aka Miss Manners) when she said:
‘There are three possible parts to a date, of which at least two must be offered: entertainment, food and affection. It is customary to begin a series of dates with a great deal of entertainment, a moderate amount of food and the merest suggestion of affection. As the amount of affection increases, the entertainment can be reduced proportionately.’
Strive to be proper ladies, you crazy Internet women!
I am interested, however, in some personal information which you seem to possess which I generally keep scrupulously to myself. Specifically, I speak of your seemingly intimate familiarity with my generative organ. I don’t know how you came into your knowledge of its astonishingly diminutive size, but I must ask you to keep it to yourself until I can buy some of the creams and pills to which you have kindly referred me. Were this sort of information to get out to the public at large, I could easily become a laughingstock.
When I was in high school and had to shower in the locker room in full view of others, my nickname became ‘Acorn,’ much to my shame. I don’t want that to happen again.
I appreciate your concern for the health of my computer; you are clearly eager to prevent all sorts of cybernetic malignancies from infecting it. But I believe you are confused: often, when I click on your offered hyperlinks to ‘g3t rid of spyware!’, the link will ironically install spyware on my computer! It’s a bizarre coincidence which I am sure you wish to remedy as soon as possible.
Additionally, Internet women, your offers of various software tools to clean out my internet history are greatly appreciated. I have been visiting some websites of which I am not terribly proud recently and wish to wipe all evidence of my shame off of the face of the earth. Were my friends and family to become aware that I frequent the ‘Vore Furry Fandom World’ forum, I would be disconsolate. The abysmal lows of self-esteem I experience when I succumb to my uncontrollable lust to see anthropomorphized animals engaged in intercourse before cannibalizing each other (if the word is strictly applicable when it comes to the food chain) would be nothing compared to the burning shame that would be inflicted if my lust became common knowledge.
On a final note, I was amazed when I saw the several chain letters which you thoughtfully forwarded to me. It is very generous of Bill Gates to donate one dollar to cancer research for every person to whom I forward those e-mails, and I attempted to make every possible use out of his generosity and the opportunities available by forwarding each one not once but several times to everyone I know! I look forward to the day when I can blush with humble pride at the knowledge that cancer has been cured in no small part thanks to my own intervention. And even were Bill Gates to renege on his promise, I might even be able to fund the research myself: several individuals from Nigeria have approached me about some funds in their possession, and I feel it would not be unwarranted were I to deduct a fee of some thousands of dollars in order to help them get them out of the country. I have already sent them my banking information so that they can immediately transfer the large sums into my account to get them out of the country. But just between you Internet women and myself, I suspect there is some manner of chicanery involved in these transactions, and I might just have to thwart their evil (and enrich myself and cancer research in the process!).
In summary, Internet women: no thank you for the offer of sex, please do not remind me of my tiny penis, police your adware-removal software more carefully, cleanse me of my shame and help me cure cancer. Thank you and good day.