Hi sweetie? Thanks for taking interest in my seeking-a-wife ad. Have been at it since age twenty and you, my unique and precious jewel, are my first and only response. Felt so happy that after almost having a heart attack, I joyously removed my deluxe model full-dentures and my brand new, wavy, blond, toupee, and took a cold shower with my old, red-and-blue on white, Fruit-of-the Loom, Santa Clause boxer-shorts on. Goes to show that we should never lose hope. Know what I mean? Now to your questions my delicate dove.
Why am I still alone despite all my good qualities you ask, my empress sublime? Shoot! I had been wondering about that selfsame thing all ma natural life as well until just last night when I finished reading your perfumed letter. It was then that I suddenly had a dream-like epiphany, a profound revelation. After all these years of solitude and self-blaming a truth so simple that I am amazed I hadn’t seen it before finally dawned on me. But better late then never as the saying goes-right ma sugar?
You see, I suddenly realized that what you said in your letter about me is right. I am a hellava catch and right there in the crotch of the matter is where I found the elusive crutch that unraveled the whole damned, frustrating, conundrum-envy my love divine. pure unadulterated intense envy. You see my pristine, flower of the valley, being handsome in an exceedingly ripe, mature way as I am, gifted and intelligent and able to conversate as I can can be a blessing or a jinx. In my case its has obviously been jinx. How could I have been so blind? Eh? All these years of blaming myself for nothing.
It should have been obvious from the get-go that these women rejected me cause if they had accepted me they would have felt inferior in the honesty department. I mean, what woman can even dream of even approaching my degree of honesty? Shucks! Why even when I pass gas in a packed elevator I immediately shout out that it was me. Why should someone else take the blame for my problems? They think its cause of my Tourettes problem but it ain’t. That’s God’s honest truth!
Or what mortal woman could ever hope to match my reverent, humbleness and choose to live a lifetime, as I have, like a monk, in this little basement, boiler-room cubicle barely big enough for my cot and a few used battered books-eh and me? Eh? After conversing with me over phone they readily sense that my intense, superior spirituality will soon have me welcomed at the golden gates of Almighty God’ heavenly Jerusalem. Since they instinctively sense my imminent glorification and aren’t included, they don’t wanna be near me when it happens. So they don’t like me in order to avoid feeling inferior by my side. Know what I mean? Sugar babe?