Ficlets

The Return of An Open Letter to HoboBeardBob

My Dear HoboBeardBob,

I must say you do impress me! I did not know that a Thalidomide child with club hands could adapt to society as an adult- much less type so well. Either you have an enormous keyboard, or you are able to control at least one of your pudgy digits. Regardless of the case, kudos to you!

By the way, not everyone shares your rabid fascination with the show “Queer Eye For the Straight Guy.” And no, we don’t just “loooooove” your shoes. And I’m tired of you asking if I’ll pose, sans boxers, for your artwork. Last time I did, I posed for eight hours and you never drew anything. It was a little creepy. My uneasiness was only exacerbated by the fact that you too, sir, chose to paint nude as well. Ah, at least we both share a love of early 20th Century Impressionists.

Where’d the rug burns on your knees come from?
Stylorouge

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