Recently I watched the movie Her but didn’t review it because I didn’t want to talk about a movie about computers on a computer. In the movie the main character–who gets so horny he starts having sex with a voice–works at letter writing service in a future where people get back into the idea writing letters but can’t do it themselves. I guess it sort of makes sense because I’m into eating duck but it’s not like I’m out there strangling them myself.
I realized the whole letter writing thing would be an easy way to make a living and that I’d try it myself, only I’m not going to charge anything because this is fake and a part about charging you would make it longer. Not only am I giving these letters away for free but I’m doing it during Valentine’s time, when anything love related is worth its weight in chocolate-covered iPads. Unfortunately, most of these letters are from the male perspective but that’s okay because all women need to do to get a man is a wink in the nude. Here you go, use at your own reward:
What would you like to do to me tonight? I won’t know what I want to do to you until I see how dry your skin is this day.
Dear My Baby,
I made you a treat, it’s in the oven (turn off the oven).
Dear Hot Stuff,
I want you so bad but it’s not Christmas yet and that’s really the only time I like getting presents.
What size bra do you wear? I told the clerk that your breasts are smaller than my last girlfriend’s, which was helpful because she is my last girlfriend. Anyway, I know how much you love mind benders so this is your present.
I got 20 Nuggets — 12 for me 8 for you. I was thinking about how badly you want to lose weight so that’s why I get more than you. A lady at work said you can lose weight by having sex a lot but I’m pretty into our current arrangement of doin’ it every time your parents call to ask if you’re pregnant yet.
Dear Beautiful Honey,
I cried last night imaging you being born and I even self-censored myself and blurred out your mom’s privates. I then thought of your recent vagina and my tears went away. See you at the grocery store.
These last three years have been way better than the three years before I met you. The three years before THAT were the best though because I dated this crazy, rich chick who had a wood burning oven and go-karts with GPS systems in ’em.
Dear Pretty You,
My heart feels so good when you’re around that I’ve decided to start abusing caffeine again. I’m about to drink a hockey helmet full of espresso so don’t be surprised if when you get home I’m up on the roof trying to eat clouds again.
Our relationship is fuckin’ unstoppable unless YOU fuck it up. Look at me, I’m 34, I work in a forest known for its huge bees and I don’t like shaving because it’s boring. You’re a banker and still have all your grandparents — I ain’t goin’ NOWHERE. Whenever you feel like getting married just let me know, I’m ready whenever.
Here’s a poem:
Roses are rad, violets are bitter
Let’s save our money and buy a new shitter
There are a thousand words to describe your beauty. Unfortunately, one of those words is “stretched” but most of the other ones are positive. Is “shiny” good or bad for a girl? The woman at the drug store wouldn’t tell me.