Dear Mr. Stein,
I got a good case for you. It’s a classic case of the slept and fall. I’m a 36-year-old aquatics enthusiast, and I live with my Mawmaw. Mawmaw is really my neighbor Dan’s mom, but we had an affair in the late aughts, and now she’s my Mawmaw. Big ole thighs.
Anyhoo, Mawmaw and I like to spend a good night in bed with a little MDMA, Justin Timberlake, a charcuterie board, and a bag full of licorice. The kind of sexy excursion most daddios would dream of.
Last Wednesday was different. We went behind the Subway sandwich place to meet up with our drugboy, a young twink named Mochi. Apparently, Mochi was off that day, but he sent Pancake as his sub (these are nicknames used by their fellows in the drug game). Pancake was dripping in swag and seemed to have much more internet clout than Mochi. All this is to say that Mawmaw rubbed those thighs up on him, and he gave us a little something extra, something he called Oregonian Spider Crisp.
“Sprinkle a little on your lips and give a little kiss,” Pancake said regarding the Crisp.
So we went back home to enjoy our midweek treat. We cranked Timberlake, inserted our licorice plugs, and followed Pancake’s directions for the Spider Crisp. I don’t remember much after that, but it is important to tell you that I woke two days later with licorice still in my anus.
And since waking, Mawmaw and I have been having issues. You see, there is a shadow man named Mark who follows us. He’s unsettling to say the least. But what’s really concerning us is the narcolepsy we’ve both developed. Neither Mawmaw nor I, Beto O’Rourke, can stay awake for more than 30 minutes at a time.
It’s a terrible problem that President Biden has as well. This culminated Saturday while Mawmaw and I were surfing. We’d paddled out past the sharks and were about to catch a rad wave when Mawmaw fell asleep suddenly on her board. Apparently, she looked like a dead seal with sexy thighs, and the sharks were attracted. Now, she doesn’t have any sexy thighs. The narcolepsy disappeared shortly after, though the shadow man is still around. Strange how that happened.
A couple of people we’d like to sue are listed in list form below:
Tell us when to be expecting a check.
Don’t hesitate to reply or DM me on insta (@ItsBetoHo).
Thank you. Goodbye.
B
I got a good case for you. It’s a classic case of the slept and fall. I’m a 36-year-old aquatics enthusiast, and I live with my Mawmaw. Mawmaw is really my neighbor Dan’s mom, but we had an affair in the late aughts, and now she’s my Mawmaw. Big ole thighs.
Anyhoo, Mawmaw and I like to spend a good night in bed with a little MDMA, Justin Timberlake, a charcuterie board, and a bag full of licorice. The kind of sexy excursion most daddios would dream of.
Last Wednesday was different. We went behind the Subway sandwich place to meet up with our drugboy, a young twink named Mochi. Apparently, Mochi was off that day, but he sent Pancake as his sub (these are nicknames used by their fellows in the drug game). Pancake was dripping in swag and seemed to have much more internet clout than Mochi. All this is to say that Mawmaw rubbed those thighs up on him, and he gave us a little something extra, something he called Oregonian Spider Crisp.
“Sprinkle a little on your lips and give a little kiss,” Pancake said regarding the Crisp.
So we went back home to enjoy our midweek treat. We cranked Timberlake, inserted our licorice plugs, and followed Pancake’s directions for the Spider Crisp. I don’t remember much after that, but it is important to tell you that I woke two days later with licorice still in my anus.
And since waking, Mawmaw and I have been having issues. You see, there is a shadow man named Mark who follows us. He’s unsettling to say the least. But what’s really concerning us is the narcolepsy we’ve both developed. Neither Mawmaw nor I, Beto O’Rourke, can stay awake for more than 30 minutes at a time.
It’s a terrible problem that President Biden has as well. This culminated Saturday while Mawmaw and I were surfing. We’d paddled out past the sharks and were about to catch a rad wave when Mawmaw fell asleep suddenly on her board. Apparently, she looked like a dead seal with sexy thighs, and the sharks were attracted. Now, she doesn’t have any sexy thighs. The narcolepsy disappeared shortly after, though the shadow man is still around. Strange how that happened.
A couple of people we’d like to sue are listed in list form below:
- Trader Joes for their licorice sticks. There’s no warning not to use them as anal plugs, and therefore Mawmaw and I thought this to be safe. We both have diabetes now, and our excrement tastes like fennel. Gross.
- Mochi. I don’t know what his real name is, but I’m sure you have a database for that. If that son of a bitch hadn’t sent Pancake, the Oregonian Spider Crisp wouldn’t have entered our bodies. Narcolepsy wouldn’t have developed, and you wouldn’t be hearing from me.
- Pancake for selling such low-quality drugs.
- Malibu Beach Patrol for not defending Mawmaw against the great whites.
- President Biden for sleepy leadership that has undoubtedly influenced the proliferation of narcolepsy.
- Mark the shadow man. We aren’t sure what he’s done wrong yet, but I assume he's done something. I'll let you be the judge of that.
Tell us when to be expecting a check.
Don’t hesitate to reply or DM me on insta (@ItsBetoHo).
Thank you. Goodbye.
B