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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