Hey there, my charismatic chiquitas! How’s it hangin’? Just got time for a quick couple of questions while I wait for the dryer to buzz.
I’m typin’ from home this time, ‘cause we finally got enough money from the eyeball job that Sandi said I could go home for the night. I think it might be the first night in twelve days I’ve actually gotten back to that comfortable ass-groove in the couch. Man, I missed my couch. Hello, couch!
Oh. Anyway. Let’s pull out a letter or two, shall we? Here we go…
What was your pre-chilla life like?
Huh. Well, my petite cherry blossom, not entirely sure what you mean there. I mean, I’ve always been chilla than the next dude, so it’s not really like I had a life pre-chilla. But maybe you mean in those days before I became the amazing, astonishing merc-for-hire that I am today? I guess you could say back then my life was…not nearly as much fun as it is now, that’s for sure! But maybe that’s not what you meant, either. I guess maybe it’s time to try out my Google-fu!
Chilla-nashini (severe trial: also spelled Chelaa-nashini) is the spiritual practice, known mostly in Indian and Persian folklore, of remaining seated in a circle without food, water, or sleep for forty days and nights.
Haha. Well that can’t be what you meant. I mean, what kind of a fool would sit around in a circle and do nothing for that long? I hope you’re at least allowed to talk sometimes. Man, that’d be so boring if you couldn’t even talk.
Oh, here’s something. I see “chilla” is a nickname for “chinchilla.” Now, how in the hell did you know that Sandi just got one of those things? Are you stalking the Agency?? (O_<) You’d better watch out, or you’re gonna start freakin’ me out, here. Anyway, if THAT’S what you meant, the answer is: much less cute. I mean, I’m not much of a sucker for little furry things, but damn that puffball is irrisistable. The very first time she made me pet it it tried to lick my finger, and I have to admit, now I bring it raisins and call it my little Cottonball. And I haven’t even tried to stab it yet. Just don’t tell any of the bad guys this, ‘kay? It’s not good for my image.
P.S. I don’t know why she named it Rogue. Chindis the Killa Chinchilla would have been a much better name. Especially with those little red eyes the furball has. But Sandi never listens to me. Also she’s got a major lesbian crush on that X-chick.
So, what else have we got here? Oh, here we are:
Who’s your favorite Buffy character? And I mean the character, not your
favorite set of tits.
Ooh, this one’s easy-peasy-puddin-and-pie. That’d be Willow, baby. She’s clearly better than all the other feebs on the show. I mean:
a) she’s got red hair, which is spicy-hot-hot-hot;
b) she dated a werewolf for awhile, so I figure even a guy who looks like me might have a shot; and
c) she gets it on with chicks, and she’s kinda kinky, so if I asked real nice, she might let me watch.
In a word: ZING!
P.S. How dare you imply I’m so shallow that I’m just admirin’ the melons? I am so very offended!
P.P.S. And speaking of melons, helloooo, witch! That would be reason (d) why Willow’s the best!
OK, one more for the night:
I’m a big, big fan, and I love your style, but I have to ask: are you gay? My friend gestalt1 says you’re “totally gay for Cable. TOTALLY!” and I want to know if it’s true. I mean, Cable’s got a chiseled profile and all, and I dig the glowing eye, but really, man, that’s just LAME. And now he’s traipsing around with a baby and stuff, and that’s kinda wussy, and I just had to ask. Say it ain’t so, man!
Monte Sereno, CA
P.S. Is this you? I know you’ve dressed up as a girl before. I thought maybe it was you in drag again.
Derek; you know, I’ve never been to Monte Sereno, but I’ve heard it’s a nice place to visit for a day. Maybe I’ll come out your way sometime. I bet you’d LOVE to see my katanas all up close and personal. They’re really sharp.
But to answer your question: I thought we covered this already! Damn. I don’t know where these rumors even come from! Really. I mean, you live with a mutant Jesus that everyone is in love with on a remote island for a few months or so and all of a sudden people think you’re the new Odd Couple or something. Like I could help that we always went everywhere together and stuff. That was the fault of science, man, not my choice. Well, science and Cable swallowing me, but–wait–that didn’t–you know, the short answer is NO. In all caps, dude. I dig the chicks. And my fantasies in no way involve WD-40. I don’t know who started that one, but just GET IT OFF THE INTERNET, FEEBS. I am a 100%. Straight. MAN.
Ooh, I gotta go now. The dryer just buzzed and my new green panties are dry! See ya!