Today I got the email letter that I have been waiting for my entire life. I always dreamed that a very handsome prince from a faraway land, (we'll call it Luxemermany) would send his messenger on a noble steed to present me with a letter, a proposal. This Crown Prince of the Principality of Luxemermany knew I had been waiting and he did not disappoint although the steed didn't make it nor did the 27 dozen roses. Instead, he sent me a message that said:
Dear Jennyfur, I am in a faraway land called Luxemermany. I am an exile in my own country. My countrymen have betrayed me and only you can save me. How can you, Jennyfur, save me all the way, far away in Perrysburg Ohio? It's not a kingdom to be sure, but you can help me and I have many riches. I've heard all the rumors that you're mean and that you spit when you get really mad, but I don't believe any of it. You are my one true love and only you can save me. You can save me by sending me all of your personal information before midnight tonight! Can you do that darling? Best, Your Prince, His Royal Highness of Luxemermany, Roscoe.
My heart, it flutters! I respond:
Dear Prince Roscoe of the Principality of Luxemermany,
How on earth did you find me? I will do anything if you'll save me from this rainy weather and the trendy cheap stuff I buy at Target. I am so over Michael Graves. Do you have department stores in Luxemermany? What about martini bars? Do you have vodka taps filled to the brim with Ketel One? Will your servants bring me Cosmos for breakfast? If you are for real, please tell me so I can send you everything about me. Do you need my birth certificate?
All my love, your darling Jennifer. (P.S. Not sure why you're spelling my name Jennyfur.)
Dear Jennyfur of Perrysburg Ohio:
I spell your name this way because my computer told me to. Do not take it personally, you are my light, my love, my bank account, er, my saving grace. I will promise you Cosmos for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Did you include your Social Security number, I didn't see it. Can you resend.
Your loving Roscoe.
Dear Roscoe, No I did not send you my Social Security number. What kind of creep are you? No one promises me Cosmos at breakfast, not even my husband or my boss. Do you have some kind of screw loose? What kind of backwards principality is Luxemermany? I do apologize for sounding so short with you Darling Roscoe. Do you care if I have kids? Do you know Dr. Drew? Do you have any pink tank tops? Where's the noble steed?
With anticipation, Jennifer
Dear Jennyfur, Listen, you sound like you need rehab and you are kind of mean. That stuff I read online was true apparently. Anyway, we have rehab in our land and its conducted by that Super Hotty Dr Dru that you love so much. I can get you here if you send me your checking account information, your Social Security number and the three digit code off the back of each of your Visa cards. You have several of these so make sure you send each code. I can hardly wait to see you and share my riches. Dr Dru sends his love and he's wearing a pink tank top. The steed is in the shop.
Your one true love, Roscoe
Dear Roscoe, My mom always said if something was too good to be true, it would sound like it. Well, you and your misspelling computer program can't have anything. But, Thanks for asking and yes I do spit when I'm mad. I knew you were a fraud when you said the steed was in the shop and that Dr Drew was wearing a pink tank top. Consider yourself busted.
Not a sucker, Jennifer
I am so disappointed. SIGH