It is with considerable dismay and displeasure that I notice and observe that the evil and depraved miss Snooky Wong again lampoosn and snarks me!
In this horrid post:
Parsee plus Lawyer and Panties equals chowder head
Have you no decency, petite bitchette, have you at last no decency? I ask with trembling brow.
You are a mincks. Completely.
Do NOT blame the rabbit!
That you got miserable and sick and stomach-churningly awful from eating all the Easter chocolates, well then whose fault is that except your own? Did I force you? Did I offer you a bucket full of dark temptation? Did I hold down your softly writhing form while proffering bonbons to those parted cherry lips? Well?
And you must answer NO. It is yourself at fault alone. Because you dared not give me your contact information, most unrightly fearing that an upstanding fine LAWYER such as myself would risk all by attempting to seduce a delicate teenage miss.
Heavens to betsy! I am offended.
I have already told you a thousand times, a veritable lakh of times indeed, in as many copious details, that I am not interested in you. Far otherwise in the slightest, the only intellectual curiosities I have concerning yourself is for your cotton nether bits. A subject of deep thought. The delightsome girlish rumpous within, although undoubtedly as fine a piece of work as any (and do please describe!), is of utterly no fascination whatsoever. I would not want it. Even if you offered it to me on a silver platter with bells and tassels attached. And I demand that you test that presumption, so that I may prove my innocence by glancing sneeringly thereat, without further ado about it. I shall but glare in its direction!
I have the bells and tassels, little miss, where are you? Pale blue, please, with the merest of lace edgings. It is an intellectual quest, and curiosities must be satisfied.
Bikini briefs, French cut, or sporty type, it is me all good.
Can I offer you some fine imported chocolate? A gift-wrapped three pound box?