Re: Justin
Dearest Justin Timberlake,
God damn son. You need to check your mail more often. I've already got a bout lined up with your fan club. I'm going to put your little glee club to the sword. Every last fan of Justin Timberlake must be tested. Their love for your smooth beats and dreamy eyes must be challenged by their need to avoid pain. The slathering masses demand more of you dear boy. It's not enough just to prance and sing. Real men are defined by the insane things they do for their ultimate ends.
Maybe you're uncomfortable with the idea of sabers at dawn? What about
smallswords at dusk? You'd be able to wear sunglasses. Imagine it Justin, our swords beating a deadly staccato cadence over the rolling countryside. What about I meet you in North Dakota? I don't know if you got the memo but North Dakota is THE place to be. Soy beans. Sugar beets. Nukes. Cattle...more nukes. Exact coordinates will be sent to your team while still in flight. We can parachute into the drop zone, swords drawn! What a fantastic way to die!
What is it going to take to get you on the field with me? Need I continue insulting you like a buffoon? In that instance, I am for you sir. I have it on rather credible authority that you have, on more than at least five occasions, strangled a horse to death. I also have some rather grainy 8 MM footage of you giving an intimate foot massage to Bob Barker. I would hate for this footage to fall into the wrong hands...
Regards,
Jeremiah Liend
God damn son. You need to check your mail more often. I've already got a bout lined up with your fan club. I'm going to put your little glee club to the sword. Every last fan of Justin Timberlake must be tested. Their love for your smooth beats and dreamy eyes must be challenged by their need to avoid pain. The slathering masses demand more of you dear boy. It's not enough just to prance and sing. Real men are defined by the insane things they do for their ultimate ends.
Maybe you're uncomfortable with the idea of sabers at dawn? What about
smallswords at dusk? You'd be able to wear sunglasses. Imagine it Justin, our swords beating a deadly staccato cadence over the rolling countryside. What about I meet you in North Dakota? I don't know if you got the memo but North Dakota is THE place to be. Soy beans. Sugar beets. Nukes. Cattle...more nukes. Exact coordinates will be sent to your team while still in flight. We can parachute into the drop zone, swords drawn! What a fantastic way to die!
What is it going to take to get you on the field with me? Need I continue insulting you like a buffoon? In that instance, I am for you sir. I have it on rather credible authority that you have, on more than at least five occasions, strangled a horse to death. I also have some rather grainy 8 MM footage of you giving an intimate foot massage to Bob Barker. I would hate for this footage to fall into the wrong hands...
Regards,
Jeremiah Liend
Comments