I’m usually someone who always takes the high road (not) and keeps to myself #meek. With the leaves falling and smell of dry turkey in the air I decided it was time to get my dick out and confront a special predicament head on.
Last night I received an email from one bitter bitch named Glenn after he awkwardly asked me out for a date via email a few months back. I received Glenn’s first email while I was half asleep at 3am. The timing seemed rapey and insensitive to my rem cycle. The message read:
“Hi Jackie. Love your blog and you seem like a really chill girl. Not sure if you are taken or not but would really love to take you out ;)”
Much to my dismay, he also attached a heavily filtered selfie complete with indoor sunglasses and fucking puka shells. Legally, I am unable to post his picture (believe me I asked…) He looked like someone you would find in an Ed Hardy sweatshirt driving a Toyota with a spoiler, racing stripes and red rims. I didn’t respond because I am busy and try not to communicate with people in puka shells at all costs. Even small children on vacation in Hawaii… Legit don’t give a fuck if you are 7 years old and just being “festive” puka shells are tragic.
I had long forgotten over my little cyber suitor. Seasons changed, food babies delivered, weaves reinstated. It had felt like eons. That was until I received this follow-up email last night as I sipped my dirty martini and got ready to watch Real Housewives.
Firstly, I have no problem with having people value my “looks” over my brain. Your attempt at an insult was actually a huge compliment. I would assume the only thing your going to be popular for is having recognition on my blog so… You’re welcome. Please forward me your Paypal information as my 2014 Mitzvah Project I would like to pay for a year’s membership to Match.com for you. I am relatively sure that would just cover the tip of your romantically disabled iceberg. This sucky writing you speak of has allotted me some expendable income to help the less fortunate. What can I say? Philanthropy is my life.
Please do not find this essay to portray any offense taken from your letter. I can say with complete authenticity that I was more offended by your photo than your attempt at harsh words. The truth is I was low on material and this proved to be a real jewel of inspiration. The only real takeaway is that you think I am pretty… and you probably own denim with white stitching like all real shmucks.
Merriam Webster defines the word “glen” as a small, narrow, secluded valley. Coincidentally the culprit of this email is named Glenn who I am assuming has a small penis, narrow mind and secluded studio apartment in the valley with a roommate. NONE FOR YOU GLENN COCO, must suck to suck.