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THUGwife
Active member
soulskier
Active member
this is the best on i've ever read on there
not a sale, but hilarious nonetheless
An Apology: To the Girl in the Parking Garage
Date: 2004-12-13, 11:29AM CST
It was late. We happened to be walking on the same path. I knew you were nervous--I would be too if I was a petite female, walking alone on a desolate and dark city street at 1:00 a.m.
You were about fifty feet in front of me. I was going to turn right. You turned right. Soon, I was going to turn left. You turned left. I tried walking slower to let you get ahead of me. Unfortunately, you decided to walk slower at the exact moment I did. I then decided to start walking very fast, so that I could pass you by, let you be in control of the situation by being behind me. You started walking fast at the exact moment I did.
I considered taking another turn or stopping for a smoke. Anything to let you get way ahead of me, to get me off of your path so that you could relax because I know you thought you were being followed by a strange man. It was cold as fuck outside though, so I continued walking toward my destination, a parking garage. I somehow knew this was your destination as well.
You walked into the sanctuary of the garage, and I paused to have a smoke. With the luck I was having, you were probably parked right next to me and the coincidence would press the situation enough for me to get maced, I thought.
The freezing wind helped me smoke my cigarette down to the filter in record time, but I thought my nicotine break gave you enough time to get to your car without some strange guy on your heels. I got in the elevator and pushed the button for the fifth floor, where I was parked.
The elevator stopped on floor 3. The doors opened. And there you were. You forgot where you parked. I wouldn't have been offended if you didn't get on the elevator, but you did. You shrank away from me, and I could your fear along with the strong fragrance of whatever alcohol you had been drinking all evening. You didn't push a button on the elvator. Of course, you were getting off on my floor. Shit.
I wanted to get off the elevator first to show you that I wasn't stalking you, to let you walk behind me for a change. Unfortunately, when the elevator doors parted you were off like a horse at the gate. You walked fast, I walked slowly. We were both headed in the same direction, again. It was at this point that I started to become a bit angry, not so much at you, but at the truths of society that helped to create this uncomfortable situation. So I walked slowly, and felt like the killer in a B horror movie who always catches up with the victim no matter how slowly he walks or how quickly the female victim runs.
To make things worse, a penny was stuck in the grooves of the sole of my shoe. You walked quickly, and behind you you heard the "clink-clomp" of my shoe and penny laden shoe hitting the hard concrete. You panicked at this point, I think. Thankfully, you I saw you turn left up the ramp, and I went right, toward my car.
The parking deck was empty of cars, save mine and one parked right next to it. I absolutely knew the car next to mine was yours. You were now wandering around the sixth floor I think, either avoiding me and waiting for me to leave or truly drunk and lost. I got in my car, started it up and let it warm up a bit. I wanted to help you. . .and then I saw you in my rearview mirror. Miss, whomever you are, please don't ever accept a ninja or spy job, because you are horrible at trying to conceal yourself from view. Maybe it was the bright pink scarf dangling over the edge of the ramp or the fact that you were perched right underneath a bright halogen lamp, but I could not only see you trying to hide, watching me in my car, but you stuck out like a turd in a punch bowl.
I sighed, put my car into gear, and backed out of my space. I backed out a bit too far, cut the wheel and found my headlights right on you, completely illuminating and exposing your already horrible hiding place. Your eyes looked haunted, like that famous National Geographic cover featuring the woman with the 'haunted eyes.'
The apology: I'm truly, truly sorry that at that point I flashed my brights and honked my horn at you like I was firing a machine gun. You jumped and, I think, screamed, but at this point the whole situation had gone too far for me. I also think you needed to sober up a bit more before you got behind the wheel of your car.
As I pulled away, I smiled and waved at you. You gave me the finger. I probably deserved your wrath at this point, but please: In the future, get someone to walk you back or take a cab. You stink at being stealthy. I hope your hangover wasn't too bad.
--Your Unintentional Stalker
not a sale, but hilarious nonetheless
An Apology: To the Girl in the Parking Garage
Date: 2004-12-13, 11:29AM CST
It was late. We happened to be walking on the same path. I knew you were nervous--I would be too if I was a petite female, walking alone on a desolate and dark city street at 1:00 a.m.
You were about fifty feet in front of me. I was going to turn right. You turned right. Soon, I was going to turn left. You turned left. I tried walking slower to let you get ahead of me. Unfortunately, you decided to walk slower at the exact moment I did. I then decided to start walking very fast, so that I could pass you by, let you be in control of the situation by being behind me. You started walking fast at the exact moment I did.
I considered taking another turn or stopping for a smoke. Anything to let you get way ahead of me, to get me off of your path so that you could relax because I know you thought you were being followed by a strange man. It was cold as fuck outside though, so I continued walking toward my destination, a parking garage. I somehow knew this was your destination as well.
You walked into the sanctuary of the garage, and I paused to have a smoke. With the luck I was having, you were probably parked right next to me and the coincidence would press the situation enough for me to get maced, I thought.
The freezing wind helped me smoke my cigarette down to the filter in record time, but I thought my nicotine break gave you enough time to get to your car without some strange guy on your heels. I got in the elevator and pushed the button for the fifth floor, where I was parked.
The elevator stopped on floor 3. The doors opened. And there you were. You forgot where you parked. I wouldn't have been offended if you didn't get on the elevator, but you did. You shrank away from me, and I could your fear along with the strong fragrance of whatever alcohol you had been drinking all evening. You didn't push a button on the elvator. Of course, you were getting off on my floor. Shit.
I wanted to get off the elevator first to show you that I wasn't stalking you, to let you walk behind me for a change. Unfortunately, when the elevator doors parted you were off like a horse at the gate. You walked fast, I walked slowly. We were both headed in the same direction, again. It was at this point that I started to become a bit angry, not so much at you, but at the truths of society that helped to create this uncomfortable situation. So I walked slowly, and felt like the killer in a B horror movie who always catches up with the victim no matter how slowly he walks or how quickly the female victim runs.
To make things worse, a penny was stuck in the grooves of the sole of my shoe. You walked quickly, and behind you you heard the "clink-clomp" of my shoe and penny laden shoe hitting the hard concrete. You panicked at this point, I think. Thankfully, you I saw you turn left up the ramp, and I went right, toward my car.
The parking deck was empty of cars, save mine and one parked right next to it. I absolutely knew the car next to mine was yours. You were now wandering around the sixth floor I think, either avoiding me and waiting for me to leave or truly drunk and lost. I got in my car, started it up and let it warm up a bit. I wanted to help you. . .and then I saw you in my rearview mirror. Miss, whomever you are, please don't ever accept a ninja or spy job, because you are horrible at trying to conceal yourself from view. Maybe it was the bright pink scarf dangling over the edge of the ramp or the fact that you were perched right underneath a bright halogen lamp, but I could not only see you trying to hide, watching me in my car, but you stuck out like a turd in a punch bowl.
I sighed, put my car into gear, and backed out of my space. I backed out a bit too far, cut the wheel and found my headlights right on you, completely illuminating and exposing your already horrible hiding place. Your eyes looked haunted, like that famous National Geographic cover featuring the woman with the 'haunted eyes.'
The apology: I'm truly, truly sorry that at that point I flashed my brights and honked my horn at you like I was firing a machine gun. You jumped and, I think, screamed, but at this point the whole situation had gone too far for me. I also think you needed to sober up a bit more before you got behind the wheel of your car.
As I pulled away, I smiled and waved at you. You gave me the finger. I probably deserved your wrath at this point, but please: In the future, get someone to walk you back or take a cab. You stink at being stealthy. I hope your hangover wasn't too bad.
--Your Unintentional Stalker
*TURBONERD*
Active member
hahahahahahaha
cjdubya17
Member
http://dontevenreply.com/
don't know if this is a repost but it fits in this thread
don't know if this is a repost but it fits in this thread
Afeld
Active member
Barely Legal Little League
Posted at: 2009-11-25 02:31:59
Original ad:
We are a little league team looking for a sponsor for the upcoming season. Email if you are interested in helping out. Thanks!
From Me to ********@***********.org
Good afternoon,
I came across your ad looking for a sponsor for your little league
team. I am interested if you still need one. Let me know, and we can
discuss the details.
Thanks,
Mike
From Joe ********* to Me:
Hey Mike,
My name is Joe. I have been the coach of this team and greatly
appreciate the offer. We still do need a sponsor and I would like to
hear what you have to offer. The league will not start up again until
mid-April so we will have some time. Let me know what you were thinking
for sponsorship, you can email or call me anytime at (***)***-****
Thanks,
Joe
From Me to Joe *********:
Joe,
I am glad to hear you are still interested. I would like to have my
company name on your team's uniform and fence sign. How much would it
cost to do this?
Mike
From Joe ********* to Me:
Hi Mike,
The cost to fully sponsor our team would be $800. It would cover
ordering the jerseys and equipment. At the end of the season you will
be recognized at our ceremony and will receive a framed photo of the
team and your own uniform. What is your company's name and do you have
a website?
Thanks,
Joe
From Me to Joe *********:
That sounds reasonable Joe. I am the founder of an adult film company
called BarelyLegalSuperSluts. We specialize in 18+ amateur pornography
and I would like to get our name out there. We plan on lanuching our
site around April, so I think the timing would be perfect with your
league. I can forward you our logo and we will discuss designs for the
uniforms.
Mike
From Joe ********* to Me:
Mike,
Do you realize this sponsorship is for a little league team?
Joe
From Me to Joe *********:
Yes, you told me that. I think it is great that I'll be able to help kids enjoy America's greatest pastime.
From Joe ********* to Me:
and you honestly expect a bunch of kids to be sporting a jersey that says Barely Legal Super Sluts?
From Me to Joe *********:
Is it too long to fit on the jersey? We could just call them the Super
Sluts for short as long as the sign on the field included the link to
our website.
From Joe ********* to Me:
No that isn't the problem. This team is for kids and we can't have them
wearing shirts that say Super Sluts on them. It is highly offensive and
the league most likely wouldn't even allow it.
From Me to Joe *********:
How about we call them the Barely Legal Little Leaguers? I would
include a free copy of our Super Sluts Slurping Loads DVD for every
parent that attends the game. The DVD features over 3 hours of sluts
with hilarious outtakes and alternate endings. I could even have a few
of our stars come out and mud wrestle during the 7th inning stretch. I
think it could pull in a lot more of an audience for your little league.
From Joe ********* to Me:
No! Thats even worse! Look Mike I appreciate you trying to help our
team out but this is absolutely the wrong place to be advertising your
porn. If you would still like to contribute you can but we cannot have
your company name associated with our team.
From Me to Joe *********:
If this is how you treat every sponsor that wants to help your team
out, you will never get any money. Sooner or later you are going to
have to whore yourself out to someone, which is a valuable lesson
learned in my Big Sluts: Big Loads DVD. I could give that one out to
the parents instead, due to the educational value.
From Joe ********* to Me:
You just dont quit do you? Aint happening so go to hell!
