I have to share this. I am a bitch, and sometimes I'm proud of that fact.
The Brother received an e-mail from his ex who is stationed in another country, whom I delight in referring to as the Red-Haired Succubus. She sent him this e-mail:
Subject: Distance is the problem, Watson.
Do words exist that could entice you to come hither for a hug and a
visit? Well, unfortunately not here exactly... [city named removed to protect said succubus]. In a couple days. Or a month or so?
Here's my attempt:
I have Belgian chocolate.
If you can't come in person, all other forms of hugs will be accepted...
I strongly suggested to him the following response:
Subject: Watson says, "Distance is no problem for me!!"
No, wicked succubus, there are no words that could lure me into your frigid embrace that I was fortunate to escape once. Who knows if, once there, I would be able to make that desperate escape again??
No, madame, not for all the chocolate in the world (or Guinness for that matter, so don't even try it) would I depart my safe haven here in the Midwest. Not in a few days, not in a month, not anytime in the next century.
If you're so desperate for a piece, try the locals, I hear red hair fascinates them.
Until we speak again (and may it not be too soon, for the love of Christ) I remain the one and only
LEACH.
Brother's response?? "Brutal."
Indeed. But worth it if one could witness the reaction on that pale, narrow face.
I couldn't stop myself from sharing this with The Parents and The Sister. Yeah, I'm a nutjob.
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