I Will Leave You to Your Meaty Fate

Email Sent in by Rosaline:

I was walking minding my own business on a summer day when the area between my thighs began to chafe. Remembering childhood remedies of yore, I ran to the closest store to buy some baby powder. No sooner had I applied the powder when I realized that my thighs smelled pretty good.

I walked into a super market's butcher section! Asked them to identify the scent. Roast meat and potatoes! One of the lads rung out. Well, that was enough for me! I promptly wiped my thighs all over their establishment (glass, steaks, et al), so as to hopefully increase their sales (and earn myself a hefty cut, in the bargain!).

Ah, summer jobs. Yours?



  1. I assume this is a first contact message, although it's amusing to ponder at what sort of question might have prompted this response.

  2. Maybe he just sent it to her out of the blue

  3. I thought it was funny. I'd reply.

  4. Just when I think I can't love you more, you slip in an Invader Zim reference.

    I'm going to sing my swoon song now: Swoon swoon swoon, SWOON SWOONswoon, swoon swoooooon, swoon swoon swoon SWOON...

    1. That boys loves you. HE LOVES YOU SOO MUCH. ...I'm baking a cake!

    2. I'm a girl. I just love El Caminos, cause they're like the mullets of cars--business in the front, half a truck in the back, yeah!


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