An(other) Open Letter To Faith Hill
WTF am I going to do about this lacivious mess that exists in my heart, since I photographed you for Playboy all those years ago? The sodomy we shared that night was greasy enough for a month of bliss, except we got it all in one night. Your idea to videotape everything to show to your gay neighbors was so hot...god, I can't stop coming mentally. I need you, Faith. Your incredible good looks, covered in bodily fluids, shook me to my core. The sodium pentathol lasted really long, long enough for you to tell me all about your beastiality addiction. I think a woman who craves spider monkeys is really goddamn smokin'. The intensity, the shreiking...I am about to lose control right now (wait, here it is...right under the Shift key), and I can't stop thinking about you. And your way of shaking for long periods of time when you're "happy".
I love making you "happy"...please come back.
Ol' Horny Toad