It's a Relationship With 9 Lives

Dear Cat Woman,

I thought I was done with you after your heinous sexting the night I was at the strip club with The RINGER. I have never been more disgusted by one individual in my life. That's a complete lie. I was pretty disgusted when me and the fellas went to that Donkey Show in Tijuana in 2002. Fuck, that was a goddamn night to remember. J-Wunder, I think you need to write about that...just putting it out there buddy.

As Thanksgiving approaches, I will admit that I will be needy. And when I say needy, I mean, horny. Although I want to scrub my eyes out with bleach everyday because of the horrid pictures of your goat's eye that I can't get out of my head, I will say that I miss you. Well, I miss your mouth. I miss your scent of cat nip and potpourri. The way you eat mayo out of a jar...or should I say tub.

How could one attractive man like myself be so attracted to a woman who resembles John Candy? As J-Wunder put it in a text, "Bro, you aren't attracted to her. You're attracted to her fucking mouth. You do realize you have a blow job addiction, right? I mean, if you could suck your own dick, you would. True story because back in college, you tried that yoga class out to see if you could get flexible enough to suck your own cock. BTW - you're fucking disgusting."

I'm an addict. A blow job addict. As ugly as you are Fluffasaurus Rex, your mouth is beautiful. Warm, moist, riveting. If they could have mouth models, yours would be #1. If they only shot porn with mouth shots around dicks and vaginas, you would be the Jenna Jameson of that shit.

I've dated and nailed a few chicks since we stopped talking a few weeks back. The sex was great but the blow jobs...they just didn't compare to yours. Nothing beats your style. Nothing beats the ambiance with the cats staring, cat shit just chillin' on the floor next to your Crocs, the smell of old cheese and wet farts. Let's not forget the shit ton of cat hair that lingered in the air and throughout the walls of your shitty ass apartment. Which reminds me...have you cleaned your place up yet because when I took a piss, I swear you had seaweed coming out of your toilet. What the hell am I doing with you????

I miss your mouth. I miss how it tickled my balls. I miss wearing those cat boxers that turned you on. I miss purring like a kitty when I blew my load and bruised your tonsils. There's no denying that you are one bad accident away from looking like Sloth from the Goonies but I don't care. As long as your mouth is intact, I'm ok with that. I know you are too.

This Saturday I will be in the presence of H-Bomb, Flo-Rich, RoMo, The BOSS, K-Piddy, OG and our leader, J-Wunder. Although I don't want you hanging out with any of us, I do plan to meet up with you for a possible opportunity at a blow job. Where and when this happens, we'll see. I just want to make sure that you're up for it but are ok to not show your face to anyone. Because if you do, I'll more than likely lie to all those around me and just say you're some prostitute who is looking for a good time. J-Wunder knows I don't pay for prostitutes. Ok, I do. Just Asian ones.

If you accept this offer, then I will see you Saturday night. I will be drunk. I will be wearing my cat boxers. And I will be expecting to purr like an animal that has been caged for decades. If you have no idea what that means...don't worry because I don't either. Just be ready to feel the wrath of my wang going in and out your mouth. And if you want, bring your cats. I don't mind. It kinda turns me on when someone(s) is watching.

The countdown to ThunderDOME is on...

Anonymous