Dancing In Red Shoes Will Kill You
i have a secret admirer and her name is Sandra.
Sandra, who is a very friendly young lady, has been sending me love messages - yes, it's Disclose The Steamy Contents Of Your Junk Mail Folder Time again - titled along the suggestive lines of "EverybodyNeedsAF**kFriend..we all do" or "BeMyF*kBuddy" (with censorship courtesy of yours truly). goodness, i'd no idea i was so irresistible ;p i know i was in a convent school (and for that matter, in st nicks - famed for its production of Grade A butches and passives) for ten years, but this is a bit much. i mean, look: Sandra, i know that we live in a free country and that we're currently wooing the pink dollar and that you're perfectly entitled to have atypical romantic leanings for your gender. but still, i'd really appreciate it you'd concentrate your amorous attentions elsewhere CAUSE YOU'RE BARKING UP THE WRONG STRAIGHT-BRANCHED TREE HERE (!).
ah well, at least Sandra is a fan of mine cause the people who call me at work every day (to ask inane questions about Terribly Asinine Xylophones) sure aren't. on the contrary, they'd like nothing better than to stand cackling over my very dead body (no prizes for guessing who's killed me), preparing to harvest my organs for sale in China and to donate the meat from my carcass to the UN Oil For Food Programme :(:(:(
perhaps i'll just dance away in my new red shoes and never never come back to the dread House of Xylophones where the air is as dry as how your throat feels before you have to give a speech and the calls are as unending as how a semester of school looks at the end of the june holidays.
Sandra, who is a very friendly young lady, has been sending me love messages - yes, it's Disclose The Steamy Contents Of Your Junk Mail Folder Time again - titled along the suggestive lines of "EverybodyNeedsAF**kFriend..we all do" or "BeMyF*kBuddy" (with censorship courtesy of yours truly). goodness, i'd no idea i was so irresistible ;p i know i was in a convent school (and for that matter, in st nicks - famed for its production of Grade A butches and passives) for ten years, but this is a bit much. i mean, look: Sandra, i know that we live in a free country and that we're currently wooing the pink dollar and that you're perfectly entitled to have atypical romantic leanings for your gender. but still, i'd really appreciate it you'd concentrate your amorous attentions elsewhere CAUSE YOU'RE BARKING UP THE WRONG STRAIGHT-BRANCHED TREE HERE (!).
ah well, at least Sandra is a fan of mine cause the people who call me at work every day (to ask inane questions about Terribly Asinine Xylophones) sure aren't. on the contrary, they'd like nothing better than to stand cackling over my very dead body (no prizes for guessing who's killed me), preparing to harvest my organs for sale in China and to donate the meat from my carcass to the UN Oil For Food Programme :(:(:(
perhaps i'll just dance away in my new red shoes and never never come back to the dread House of Xylophones where the air is as dry as how your throat feels before you have to give a speech and the calls are as unending as how a semester of school looks at the end of the june holidays.