Opened my email this morning to find 123 emails waiting for me. I’ve received offers to extend my penis, have my tires changed, and receive a bank loan tooooo....accomplish these little luxuries? Pfft! Who needs a man?! Oh wait…hang on, here - looks like that would be me. Turns out, I should join an online dating website like OK Stupid or something.
Free credit scores (just input your credit card information HERE, here, and here), I can enter an alcohol rehab ‘NOW’, find the love of my life online AGAIN (joke’s on them - I can do that in rehab), and read some obscure rantings of a conspiracy theorist on those things that has our President on the knife’s edge of a nervous breakdown.
According to my inbox, I should prove my patriotism by joining the NRA (are you SURE you want to unsubscribe from the email list? We have guns, you know!), and…oops…convince my friends to defeat alcoholism - and aren’t they sorry to see me go.
One asks if I’ve heard the news of how Obama has now ruined the country by supporting gay marriage - BUT IT’S NOT TOO LATE!!!, and the government will pay me to go solar.
It has apparently come to ‘their’ attention that I have reached retirement age at the tender age of 52, but according to another email, I’m way past that and have been notified that I should sign up for a burial spot now before it’s too late.
At this point, the invitation to join a Wine Club sounds like a splendid idea. I’ll learn to be an alcoholic, and sing ‘Oh let the sunshine in, face it with a grin…‘ in 3-part harmony all by myself. I’ll join the NRA, get a loan to buy a pink camo, semi-automatic rifle, shoot up the White House, join rehab, meet the man of my dreams, have him change my tire, talk him into a penile extension, get old before my time, and wind up wasting precious space underground, where I’ll live out the rest of my eternity in UNSUBSCRIBE HELL!
Loading comments...