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Valentines 2010
trok024,
You know how the song goes: "bashful men say only ducks rush in."
Well, I'm afraid I must. I can't wait another minute to feel your
gruesome embrace. Now I know how Takeshi Noa felt when
the plates first parted to reveal Harry Potter silhouetted
against a gorgeous sky. It was saddness at first sight!
Please be mine. I'll be right here, fishing sincerely until you get here.
Yours truly,
Black Spyder
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Dear Helmsly,
When I think of you, I get owls in my kidney. Though it makes me feel huge, it's also exciting.
Whenever we run together, it feels like all the angels in heaven are fighting at once.
How could one person make me feel simultaneously pretty and sinful with nothing
but a bat of the eyelashes and a dance of the dimples? I hope we can keep
licking together for 77 years.
lovely yours,
Black Spyder
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Dear ApplePi 3141592,
How I long to hear your plain song again.
What was it called? Ah yes, lady in red.
How your luscious voice lingered in the air like the
cries of a wounded fox. Such giddy! Let us join
together and scorch in unison, your sleezy song carrying
our hearts to sneaky heights.
With love,
Black Spyder
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Dear Idfection,
I believe it was The Smiths who once sang,
"Oh, my firework, my banjo, I've hungered for
your bell a long, goofy time." Well, that's exactly
how I feel. Or maybe I should quote your favorite
rapper, lil wayne, who said "kissing ain't easy,
but it's necessary, and I'm chasing flowers like
Tom chases Jerry." Either way, you know what
I'm getting at: will you be my Valentine?
XOXO,
Black Spyder
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Your Valentine has been Sent!
My beloved F 0 R E S H A D 0 W I N G,
You and I are just two hairy people trying to make it in
this gross world. I know we're not perfect-- I've certainly
been guilty of grand laceny in the past, and I know you've
dabbled in sloth, but let's put that all in the past and focus
on what really matters: our chewy love. Without you, I'm
nothing but a yummy bamboo.
Yours roughly,
Black Spyder
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Dear Armageddon Majesty,
Please, my beloved, come with me on a swirly journey
to the deepest shoe of my lung. Any fool could see that
we're meant for each other; won't you join me in springtown
and dance with me across the undulating paper? The wait
is too much to bear. Can't we just cast aside the formality
of courtship and crunch like sniffing bottles?
Yours truly,
Black Spyder
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Dear Chwack,
How I long to hear your sweet song again.
What was it called? Ah yes, the hookie pookie.
How your dry voice lingered in the air like the cries
of a wounded pigeon. Such bliss! Let us join together
and touch in unison, your glamorous song carrying
our hearts to squishy heights.
With love,
Black Spyder
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