(insert pithy rejoinder here)

Love Letters Gone Wrong

Happy Blogiversary To Me!

COVER

TODAY IS THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY OF MY BLOG! TO COMMEMORATE THIS AUSPICIOUS OCCASION I HAVE DECIDED TO RERUN MY VERY FIRST BLOG POST.

PLEASE TO ENJOY…

So yeah, I wrote a book.

I must have been high when I wrote it because there’s no other explanation I can give for my 120,000 word upper YA novel where the only noun I used more than “boner” was “blood.” It goes without saying that I’m self-published. I didn’t even try to submit it traditionally. Can you just imagine the poor agent who gets my query letter?

“My novel, THE GODS OF ASPHALT is complete at 120,000 words and is the first in a series of five books that for some reason I’ve decided to write out-of-order. Each one is told from the point of view of a teenage male protagonist who has exactly zero supernatural powers (unless you consider perpetual erections a superpower). Oh, and it also has Spanish subtitles.”

Yeah.

On the good side, if you’re like me and are just a little too into music, motorcycles and all around badassery this is the book for you. If you’re not, I’m sure Jodi Picoult’s got a blog somewhere. You can find the opening to chapter one at the top of the page under the tab GOA REVIEWS and you can find my book on line at:

SMASHWORDS

AMAZON


My Secret Admirer – Twenty-Two

CLICK ME

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did not have a winner, so click the trophy to the right for another timely post.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

**************

Dearest Ruth,

I loved seeing you again last Thursday. It was hard waiting to see you, but you are a busy lady. And then, when we were together, it was really hard to talk to you. I know you asked me questions, but I found it difficult to get the words out. I’m not like that all the time. Anyway, I couldn’t help but stare at you the entire time, and I was wondering if you’d like to get together sometime outside of work.

I loved staring at your face. I love that you let me. I love everything about it, from the lower lashes, to the slight jowling, to the 47 nose hairs – I feel like I had time to know you, thanks to your patience. You are amazing!

I hope you will accept, because I have this great idea to get some caramel fondue and Oreo cookies at this dessert shop I found. And you already know I’ll have clean teeth and a good smile!

Love ya,

Dean

************

Dear Dean,

Or should I say, Dr. Smith? Because that’s how you need to address your employees. I didn’t put myself through Dental Hygienist school just to be hit on by my boss. Oh, and by the way, it’s really kind of twisted to make me put hard candies out for the patients to eat. I know it’s a tough economy, but there’s got to be a better way to drum up business. And no, I am not talking about your idea to approach Hooters as an investor. Topless dentistry is an idea that will never take off, mark my words.

So before I file a complaint with the A.D.A., please refrain from further referring to me as your “Little Mouth Wrangler.”

Regards,

H.E. Ellis

CLICK THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Love Letters Gone Wrong – Twenty-Two

oreomadness_thumb

It’s time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter one wrong was written by a blogger who commented on the THINGS YOU CAN’T UNSEE post. Check out this post and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

***************

Dearest Ruth,

I loved seeing you again last Thursday. It was hard waiting to see you, but you are a busy lady. And then, when we were together, it was really hard to talk to you. I know you asked me questions, but I found it difficult to get the words out. I’m not like that all the time. Anyway, I couldn’t help but stare at you the entire time, and I was wondering if you’d like to get together sometime outside of work.

I loved staring at your face. I love that you let me. I love everything about it, from the lower lashes, to the slight jowling, to the 47 nose hairs – I feel like I had time to know you, thanks to your patience. You are amazing!

I hope you will accept, because I have this great idea to get some caramel fondue and Oreo cookies at this dessert shop I found. And you already know I’ll have clean teeth and a good smile!

Love ya,

Dean


My Secret Admirer – Twenty-One

CLICK ME

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, so click the trophy to the right for this week’s winning blogger.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

*****************

Maybe it was your name, and how Heellis reminded me of the high heels I fantasized you wearing, or maybe it was the way you smelled as you walked past me, not seeing me hiding behind the flower pot. Whatever it was, I am in love and I want you, even for a minute. I have this ring that it stole from my dead grandmother and I want you to have it, I want you to wear it, forever.

I know you love another, but that can change, anything can change if we want it to. Forget him, I am better, stronger, faster. I am the Bionic man, I am Superman, I am Spider man, I can be your hero if you let me.

As I sit in front of my computer, looking at porn, I think of you and I think of us, and how wonderful it would be if you said yes to a date. Just a date you say, but for me it would be the world. So what if I am 53 and never had a date. I watch movies, I know how to act, even if they don’t believe me. They who work here, and watch me and give me the medications it takes to help me deal with my insanity.

For you I would do anything. For you I would trade this straight jacket for a tuxedo and sweep you off your heels and …I love heels…I am getting sidetracked again, it is like that when the voices in your head talk constantly now where was I? Sweep you off your feet and into my arms.

So what do you say? Do you want to date? Let me know, or better still, let the guards in my cell know that you want to date.

Yours truly,

Sam

***************

Sam,

How touching it is that you care so much. I can tell you are devoted and loyal, and believe me, you will be rewarded. I think it is quite appropriate and fitting that you watch movies, especially porn, which by now should have exposed you to what you will be in for.

By way of a taste of our time together, let me say that while I find the offer of your grandmother’s ring touching, the only ring I will accept from you is the one I want binding your collar closed. Until we are together, please imagine what I have planned, beginning with me oh-so-gently slipping the ball gag into your devoted mouth, cinching it tight, and then whispering in your ear:

“NOW LICK MY FUCKING STILETTOS CLEAN, YOU NASTY LITTLE MAGGOT BITCH!”

I assume you have no aversions to whips given your situation.

Always,

H.e. ELLis

CLICK THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Love Letters Gone Wrong – Twenty-One

i-love-high-heels-sex-and-the-city-t-shirts

It’s time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter one wrong was written by a blogger who commented on the TOP TEN SPaM post. Check out this post and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

**********************

Maybe it was your name, and how Heellis reminded me of the high heels I fantasized you wearing, or maybe it was the way you smelled as you walked past me, not seeing me hiding behind the flower pot. Whatever it was, I am in love and I want you, even for a minute. I have this ring that it stole from my dead grandmother and I want you to have it, I want you to wear it, forever.

I know you love another, but that can change, anything can change if we want it to. Forget him, I am better, stronger, faster. I am the Bionic man, I am Superman, I am Spider man, I can be your hero if you let me.

As I sit in front of my computer, looking at porn, I think of you and I think of us, and how wonderful it would be if you said yes to a date. Just a date you say, but for me it would be the world. So what if I am 53 and never had a date. I watch movies, I know how to act, even if they don’t believe me. They who work here, and watch me and give me the medications it takes to help me deal with my insanity.

For you I would do anything. For you I would trade this straight jacket for a tuxedo and sweep you off your heels and …I love heels…I am getting sidetracked again, it is like that when the voices in your head talk constantly now where was I? Sweep you off your feet and into my arms.

So what do you say? Do you want to date? Let me know, or better still, let the guards in my cell know that you want to date.

Yours truly,

Sam


My Secret Admirer – Twenty

CLICK ME

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did not have a winner, so click the trophy to the right for a timely post from Edward Hotspur.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

***************

Dear Heloise Ecclesiastes Ellis,

 

I remember the first time I laid eyes on you.  I was in kindergarten.  You wore a blue dress and smelled of huckleberry (I distinctly remember it as huckleberry because even back then I was looking stuff up on Wikipedia).  I moved in closer to admire you as you finger-painted fiery orange and red and black with a yellow stripe running down the middle of the artpaper.  I touched the gauzy film of your petticoat and you punched me in the face, shattering my nose in thirty-two places. It was only later that I realized what a gift that was, as my new proboscis bears an uncanny resemblance to Edward Hotspur’s penis.

 

As we grew older in the small town of Valentine (I’ve always wanted to give you one—a small town, not a Valentine), I realized that even though I could sing and dance, I wasn’t gay enough to keep from wanting you, even after I figured out that you are a woman—a small woman with big breasts and all the energy of a Red Bull factory wired by Nikola Tesla while Benjamin Franklin flies a kite on top of the building with a key attached to the string with a 12 gauge copper wire attached to the key so that when the whole thing electrifies from lightening, it is conducted back to the factory, which is you I think, though I got kind of lost when I started talking about wiring, as I’m not an electrician.

 

As the years flew by and you became more stacked and stacked tire after tire after tire in that random field by the pond (I worked at the Goodyear Plant and would dump them there just to give you something to do), I began to realize that you would never love me, not like you love Prince Charming and Junior.  And I knew that the shit I say would never be as meaningful as the shit your kids say, but I would yell “Shit, shit, shit?” as I hauled tires back and forth, and you would post pictures of snowy trees on your blog and I knew you saw me in every frozen leaf, especially the ones where I actually glued my picture to the leaf,  with Edward’s Penis above my lips, those lips screaming out from every gluey leaf, screaming, “Love me, Love me, Love me!”

 

I know you think needy men are pussies, but it isn’t so much need as the desire of several teenage boys wrapped together like a duct-taped suitcase filled with the masculine love of an older, unneedy salt and pepper gentleman with a moustache (moustache rides are free by the way).

 

And then, one day, I was up on the roof with a couple of tires I’d hauled up there (I thought that would be a new challenge since you’re getting tired of the Thunderdome) and you said in that husky voice of yours:

 

“Hey, Asshole.  I’ve got a gun and I’m going to blow you a new one!”

 

And when that bullet went through me I knew in my heart (the bullet was actually in my heart with all the other feelings) that you really did care.  You really did.  No one shoots someone unless they really care about them, or they just wish they had a penis like Edward Hotspur’s and they’re frustrated.

 

You’re the former, not the latter.  So I climbed down the ladder, my former self wondering why I was bleeding so profusely, and you met me at the window, the same one you like to lick so much, and before I passed out, I swear we had something real between us.

 

It was a tire.

 

Love   XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

****************

Dear XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX,

I cannot begin to tell you how surprised I was to receive your letter! In fact, I came as soon as I heard the postman ring my doorbell. Sorry this took so long to respond, but the postman came to my backdoor instead.

At first I thought it was my weekly delivery of tube steak or my monthly bottle of trouser snake repellent or the latest issue of Beaver Buster catalog. You can imagine my surprise to find my postman, John Thomas, standing at attention on my doorstep holding your letter in one hand and my package in the other (my dog Bukkaki got a bone or two in the mail that day).

I want you to know that I read your letter over and over while I watched West Point’s Black Knights play the Midshipmen- after I adjusted my antenna, of course. There’s nothing better in the world to me than the feeling of beating Navy. Well, maybe Magic  Johnson with ball in his hand. Not to blow my own horn, but I was a bit of ball-handler myself back in the day.

I’d love to stay and chat, but I promised Rosy Palm and her five sisters that I’d help them polish the family jewels.

Signed,

Edward Hotspur’s Penis

 

 

CLICK THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Love Letters Gone Wrong – Twenty

eh

It’s time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter one wrong was written by a one of my Blogs With Books authors. Check out this page and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

 

**************

 

Dear Heloise Ecclesiastes Ellis,

 

I remember the first time I laid eyes on you.  I was in kindergarten.  You wore a blue dress and smelled of huckleberry (I distinctly remember it as huckleberry because even back then I was looking stuff up on Wikipedia).  I moved in closer to admire you as you finger-painted fiery orange and red and black with a yellow stripe running down the middle of the artpaper.  I touched the gauzy film of your petticoat and you punched me in the face, shattering my nose in thirty-two places. It was only later that I realized what a gift that was, as my new proboscis bears an uncanny resemblance to Edward Hotspur’s penis.

 

As we grew older in the small town of Valentine (I’ve always wanted to give you one—a small town, not a Valentine), I realized that even though I could sing and dance, I wasn’t gay enough to keep from wanting you, even after I figured out that you are a woman—a small woman with big breasts and all the energy of a Red Bull factory wired by Nikola Tesla while Benjamin Franklin flies a kite on top of the building with a key attached to the string with a 12 gauge copper wire attached to the key so that when the whole thing electrifies from lightening, it is conducted back to the factory, which is you I think, though I got kind of lost when I started talking about wiring, as I’m not an electrician.

 

As the years flew by and you became more stacked and stacked tire after tire after tire in that random field by the pond (I worked at the Goodyear Plant and would dump them there just to give you something to do), I began to realize that you would never love me, not like you love Prince Charming and Junior.  And I knew that the shit I say would never be as meaningful as the shit your kids say, but I would yell “Shit, shit, shit?” as I hauled tires back and forth, and you would post pictures of snowy trees on your blog and I knew you saw me in every frozen leaf, especially the ones where I actually glued my picture to the leaf,  with Edward’s Penis above my lips, those lips screaming out from every gluey leaf, screaming, “Love me, Love me, Love me!”

 

I know you think needy men are pussies, but it isn’t so much need as the desire of several teenage boys wrapped together like a duct-taped suitcase filled with the masculine love of an older, unneedy salt and pepper gentleman with a moustache (moustache rides are free by the way).

 

And then, one day, I was up on the roof with a couple of tires I’d hauled up there (I thought that would be a new challenge since you’re getting tired of the Thunderdome) and you said in that husky voice of yours:

 

“Hey, Asshole.  I’ve got a gun and I’m going to blow you a new one!”

 

And when that bullet went through me I knew in my heart (the bullet was actually in my heart with all the other feelings) that you really did care.  You really did.  No one shoots someone unless they really care about them, or they just wish they had a penis like Edward Hotspur’s and they’re frustrated.

 

You’re the former, not the latter.  So I climbed down the ladder, my former self wondering why I was bleeding so profusely, and you met me at the window, the same one you like to lick so much, and before I passed out, I swear we had something real between us.

 

It was a tire.

 

Love   XXXXXXXXXXXXXX


My Secret Admirer – Nineteen

CLICK ME

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, so click the trophy to the right for this week’s winning blogger.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

 

****************

Oh, Heidi, Heidi. Christ almighty,
how I do love thee?
Thy witty prose, thy way with words,
pure amazes me.

I would write for you a poem
if I only could.
But when I think about you
I part turn into wood.

It gets so hard and painful
I can scarce endure.
And in case you’re doubtful,
that’s not bull manure.

It’s not the type of wood with which
I heat my home at night.
It is instead so warm and smooth,
and could give you great delight.

But the miles that lie between us,
so many in their count,
make it so unlikely
that you I’ll ever mount.

My wife would be heartbroken
if she knew to you I write.
But I’ll be thinking of you
when I’m doing her tonight.

************************

Thank you, kind sir
for your letter to me
that I read many times
while I sat in the tree

outside of the window
that looks onto your bed
and watched you make love
to a woman in red

who called out a name
that I didn’t quite hear
and then something about
something else in her rear

that I assumed meant you’d used
a bit too much force
which makes total sense since
you’re hung like a horse

but when she complained
how it started to burn
all I could think of was,
“When’s it MY turn?”

CLICK THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Love Letter Gone Wrong – Nineteen

1085093_wooden_heart

It’s time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter was written by a blogger who took the time to comment on my OPEN LETTER post. Check out this post and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

Oh, Heidi, Heidi. Christ almighty,
how I do love thee?
Thy witty prose, thy way with words,
pure amazes me.

I would write for you a poem
if I only could.
But when I think about you
I part turn into wood.

It gets so hard and painful
I can scarce endure.
And in case you’re doubtful,
that’s not bull manure.

It’s not the type of wood with which
I heat my home at night.
It is instead so warm and smooth,
and could give you great delight.

But the miles that lie between us,
so many in their count,
make it so unlikely
that you I’ll ever mount.

My wife would be heartbroken
if she knew to you I write.
But I’ll be thinking of you
when I’m doing her tonight.


My Secret Admirer – Eighteen

CLICK ME

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, so click the trophy to the right for this week’s secret blogger.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

***************

Dear H,

I’ve come to realize I am the only one for you, just because I may have let’s say “taken care” of the competition. But as I am writing this note on my clip board as a wander aimlessly around your house, don’t worry as to how I managed to get in but I can say I will pay for the hole in the roof.

 

That aside I must say, your choice of furniture is peculiar but the way it is (after I’ve made alterations) set out is pure amazing… I hope you like it. The only flaw for my love for you, is that your home does not have easy access to someone of my height but that said armed with my trusty foot stool I was able to reach those hard to get spots even managing to climb into your bed, my plan was to wait for you to come home to find me waiting for you but instead I decided to unpack all my clothing into what I presume is your wardrobe, and after going through just about all your clothing and admiringly wearing some items I might just have to take you shopping so that I can buy us matching vest tops that express our love for Snow White. As part of my work being a dwarf mob boss I am pleased to say anything or anyone you want can be dealt with making it easier for us to be together, money or resources are not an issue as you can see by the new jungle gym now found in your yard.

 

I have also assigned security to your kids and they are now on route to keep them safe you might want to drop them a call and tell them that the small green bushes that follow them with guns are there for their own protection. On that note I’m off for some shopping and I have some things to take care of, ill be back in a day or two.

Lots of love from but one of the 7 dwarves who now lives with you

xOxOx

P.s I think I left a gun in one of the draws please take case as it is loaded.

***************

Dear #7 (assuming?),

I surely do appreciate the added security on the kids, and yes, I had wondered where that draft and the jungle gym equipment came from, although around here, things appear in the yard randomly anyway.

I was intrigued by the stepstool refrences through your note. I have to admit that I’ve always fantasized about being in a situation where I’m the tall one, so that is something we’ll have to explore. However – and I hope this doesn’t deflate your Vienna sausage – I do want you to bring the other six friends you mention. I can’t tell you how long I’ve yearned for being taken care of that completely. Hope you and the six of your crew are “up” to me.

Waiting in anticipation,

H.E.

CLICK THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Love Letters Gone Wrong – Eighteen

bruenor____by_direnayhan_by_Dwarves

It’s time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter was written by a blogger who’s new to my blogroll:

A PLACE FOR NERDS

DELIGHTFULNESS

BUDDAKAT

HOBBLING AROUND

The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

***********

Dear H,

I’ve come to realize I am the only one for you, just because I may have let’s say “taken care” of the competition. But as I am writing this note on my clip board as a wander aimlessly around your house, don’t worry as to how I managed to get in but I can say I will pay for the hole in the roof.

 

That aside I must say, your choice of furniture is peculiar but the way it is (after I’ve made alterations) set out is pure amazing… I hope you like it. The only flaw for my love for you, is that your home does not have easy access to someone of my height but that said armed with my trusty foot stool I was able to reach those hard to get spots even managing to climb into your bed, my plan was to wait for you to come home to find me waiting for you but instead I decided to unpack all my clothing into what I presume is your wardrobe, and after going through just about all your clothing and admiringly wearing some items I might just have to take you shopping so that I can buy us matching vest tops that express our love for Snow White. As part of my work being a dwarf mob boss I am pleased to say anything or anyone you want can be dealt with making it easier for us to be together, money or resources are not an issue as you can see by the new jungle gym now found in your yard.

 

I have also assigned security to your kids and they are now on route to keep them safe you might want to drop them a call and tell them that the small green bushes that follow them with guns are there for their own protection. On that note I’m off for some shopping and I have some things to take care of, ill be back in a day or two.

Lots of love from but one of the 7 dwarves who now lives with you

xOxOx

P.s I think I left a gun in one of the draws please take case as it is loaded.


My Secret Admirer – Seventeen

CLICK ME

*** TODAY IS OUR SECRET ADMIRER REVEAL AS TOMORROW IS OUR EXCLUSIVE EARTH DAY INTERVIEW WITH THE EARTH GODDESS HERSELF, GAIA ***

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did not have a winner, so click the trophy for another whacked out post.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

*************

My dearest H. E.:

I am so glad I found you through the magic of the internet, because when I first laid eyes on your blog, I knew you were destined to be in a box under my bed.  Just like the girl who was kept captive in a box under someone’s bed in California in the late ’70s and early ’80s, you will of course be allowed to be outside of the box once I’m off work.  Unlike that case, though, there will be no torture involved (who do you take me for, after all?).  In fact, I won’t be abducting you while you are hitchhiking, like happened in that case, because I can’t afford the gas after all.  I just know that YOU know that you belong in a box under my bed, and you will drive here.  It would help if you’d bring the box too, because I don’t really like to do all that much when I’m not at work.  But, I will make an exception for you, because of the fact that we are destined to be together.

So, if that’s the case (that you are too lazy to build your own box) please send me all your measurements and how much extra room you think you need in the box, and I’ll commence to building the damn thing.  Let’s not overdo the size of it though; I don’t have a whole lot of headroom in the place, and I don’t really need to climb up in my bed with a stepladder.  Of course, there’ll be a lot of “headroom” in the whole place for you.  There will be “headroom” for us everywhere you and I go.  If you play your cards right, I may spend some time in your box with you.  I think the two of us might have some fun there, in your velvet-lined box.

The box will need to have ventilation, lighting, and some sort of bathroom facility built into it, so it would help if you could design all that in too.  I can tell that you are one of those modern women who can do such things, and figure all kinds of things out for yourself, and that the only time you will need to be submissive to any man is when I snap my fingers and tell you that it’s time for you to serve me in some way.

Your box will have to have an internet connection in it and you will be allowed to have a laptop, because I really enjoy your blog and you will want to keep communicating with the rest of the world with it, when you are not communicating with me by giving me lip service.  Plus you will want to work on your next novel, as we will need the extra income now that I will have an extra mouth to feed.  Maybe you could start a second blog; you could call it “Thoughts from my box” or “The world according to my box” or “I’ve got more going on in my plush little box than you do in your whole house” dot wordpress dot com, or some such thing.

Obviously you won’t need much for clothes at first; I will keep the heat up higher than I usually would while I’m at work, so that you can always be wearing nothing but lingerie.  Once I’m sure that you’ve “got your mind right” and aren’t going to think that you need more from life than a box under my bed and to serve me, daily, (hourly on weekends), then you will be allowed to spend more time outside the box.  I don’t expect you to be “thinking outside the box”, though, unless it’s to be thinking of ways to make me even happier.  I could go on and on about how much enjoyment your box will bring to both of us, but I think I’ve spent enough time fixating on your box for one night, don’t you?

Ever awaiting my chance to first lay eyes on your box,

I remain,

Your faithful servant

**************

Dear Faithful Servant,

How kind of you to think of giving me a box! I’ve always wanted one, you know. When I was in kindergarten I told my teacher I wanted a box and she gave me a small, narrow pink one that I didn’t think would hold anything bigger than a crayon, but somehow it accommodated even the largest pencils!

As I got a little older I told my mother I wanted a box but she said I was “confused.” Then I told the Pastor at my church about my want of a box, and he told me to pray so I wouldn’t get one. That made me really confused.

Finally I saw a doctor and told him about my box dreams. He told me to move to Colorado Springs and wear a dress for a year. Not sure what that has to do with a box, but I’ve grown to like how the silk feels against my skin.

I like the idea of you spending time with me in my box. I’m only 4’11” so there may not be much room for you to fit. You may have to cram yourself in there. I’m sure we can make it work.

Waiting patiently for you to come fill my box,

MR. H.E. Ellis

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Love Letters Gone Wrong – Seventeen

MShippo823101

It’s time time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter was written by a blogger who wished my Verynormal friend Megan a HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Check out this post and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

*************

My dearest H. E.:

I am so glad I found you through the magic of the internet, because when I first laid eyes on your blog, I knew you were destined to be in a box under my bed.  Just like the girl who was kept captive in a box under someone’s bed in California in the late ’70s and early ’80s, you will of course be allowed to be outside of the box once I’m off work.  Unlike that case, though, there will be no torture involved (who do you take me for, after all?).  In fact, I won’t be abducting you while you are hitchhiking, like happened in that case, because I can’t afford the gas after all.  I just know that YOU know that you belong in a box under my bed, and you will drive here.  It would help if you’d bring the box too, because I don’t really like to do all that much when I’m not at work.  But, I will make an exception for you, because of the fact that we are destined to be together.

So, if that’s the case (that you are too lazy to build your own box) please send me all your measurements and how much extra room you think you need in the box, and I’ll commence to building the damn thing.  Let’s not overdo the size of it though; I don’t have a whole lot of headroom in the place, and I don’t really need to climb up in my bed with a stepladder.  Of course, there’ll be a lot of “headroom” in the whole place for you.  There will be “headroom” for us everywhere you and I go.  If you play your cards right, I may spend some time in your box with you.  I think the two of us might have some fun there, in your velvet-lined box.

The box will need to have ventilation, lighting, and some sort of bathroom facility built into it, so it would help if you could design all that in too.  I can tell that you are one of those modern women who can do such things, and figure all kinds of things out for yourself, and that the only time you will need to be submissive to any man is when I snap my fingers and tell you that it’s time for you to serve me in some way.

Your box will have to have an internet connection in it and you will be allowed to have a laptop, because I really enjoy your blog and you will want to keep communicating with the rest of the world with it, when you are not communicating with me by giving me lip service.  Plus you will want to work on your next novel, as we will need the extra income now that I will have an extra mouth to feed.  Maybe you could start a second blog; you could call it “Thoughts from my box” or “The world according to my box” or “I’ve got more going on in my plush little box than you do in your whole house” dot wordpress dot com, or some such thing.

Obviously you won’t need much for clothes at first; I will keep the heat up higher than I usually would while I’m at work, so that you can always be wearing nothing but lingerie.  Once I’m sure that you’ve “got your mind right” and aren’t going to think that you need more from life than a box under my bed and to serve me, daily, (hourly on weekends), then you will be allowed to spend more time outside the box.  I don’t expect you to be “thinking outside the box”, though, unless it’s to be thinking of ways to make me even happier.  I could go on and on about how much enjoyment your box will bring to both of us, but I think I’ve spent enough time fixating on your box for one night, don’t you?

Ever awaiting my chance to first lay eyes on your box,

I remain,

Your faithful servant


My Secret Admirer – Sixteen

CLICK ME

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did not have a winner, so click the trophy for a timely post.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

**********

Dear Gombe:

I can’t believe we’re finally going to be together! I’m so glad I could help you out for just a few dollars. It’s amazing how much war and strife there is, and how much money is just sitting there in bank accounts! But it’s not about the money, it’s about love. And I think we have it. I want to get to know you better, of course, but I think we could spend the rest of our lives together!

Let me know when you’re coming out, or if anything goes wrong and you need some more money.

Peace and Smiles,

Chad

 

*******

Dear Chad,

Thank you, my beloved, for your generous donation of American dollars to my giraffe rehabilitation fund. As you know, the giraffes of my homeland suffer great indignities such as having to strain their necks to eat directly from trees and enduring scorching sunburns. For only a few thousand extra dollars you, Chad, can help fund a program that trains monkeys to remove leaves for the giraffes and therefore cut down on neck rehabilitation. The monies saved on giraffe physical therapy will be put to good use in our new Giraffe Sunblock factory; a factory that for a few extra thousand American dollars will display your name proudly.

Thank you Chad, for your generosity. I shall be in touch!

- Gombe

 

CLICK THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Love Letters Gone Wrong – Sixteen

nigeria

It’s time time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter was written by a blogger who clicked “Liked” on the GO HERE NOW post. Check out this post and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

***************

Dear Gombe:

I can’t believe we’re finally going to be together! I’m so glad I could help you out for just a few dollars. It’s amazing how much war and strife there is, and how much money is just sitting there in bank accounts! But it’s not about the money, it’s about love. And I think we have it. I want to get to know you better, of course, but I think we could spend the rest of our lives together!

Let me know when you’re coming out, or if anything goes wrong and you need some more money.

Peace and Smiles,

Chad


My Secret Admirer – Fifteen

CLICK ME

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did not have a winner, so click the trophy for a really out there post. I have no idea what I was thinking.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

Dear Hellis,
 
My significant other and I have been looking to expand our sexual horizons. Expanding our twosome to a threesome is new territory for us. We weren’t sure where to start to look for our victim playmate. We found this website, perhaps you’ve heard of it. It’s called lickalottapussy.com. While the women on that site all seem willing, they  look like the skankiest skanks. Then I thought of you. Not that you’re one of the skankiest skanks or even a skank. But you’ve mentioned that it’s been awhile since you’ve been in a relationship with a man and so I’ll look great to you and your comments are filled with sexual tension and innuendo of a girl on girl nature so I know my significant other will be pleased. We’ve been following your blog for weeks now or maybe a few days. The days all run together so it’s hard to remember. I blame the alcohol or the drugs. So what do you say? The three of us together could party like rock stars and have wild monkey sex. I’m not exaggerating about the monkey sex. My back is very hairy so it will be like having sex with a monkey. My significant other is from France so she’s kinda hairy, too.
Sid & Nancy
**************
Dear Sid and Nancy,
While I am flattered by your very hairy offer; I am going to decline as I have been burned in my past by getting involved in threesomes. First, my husband’s best friend fell in love with me and confessed his passions through song. Soon after my divorce this “friend” and I met up at a concert. Eventually we married and in time divorced, although I did get him to write another song for me. Since that marriage didn’t work out either I’ve decided to swear off all rockstar sex and instead I’ve devoted myself to picking up man-virgins at Comic Con. It’s worked out beautifully so far. They are always so grateful!
Signed,
“Layla”

CLICK THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Love Letters Gone Wrong – Fifteen

sn

It’s time time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter was written by a blogger who “Liked” the Shwarama SPaM post. Check out this post and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

**************

Dear Hellis,
 
My signifcant other and I have been looking to expand our sexual horizons. Expanding our twosome to a threesome is new territory for us. We weren’t sure where to start to look for our victim playmate. We found this website, perhaps you’ve heard of it. It’s called lickalottapussy.com. While the women on that site all seem willing, they  look like the skankiest skanks. Then I thought of you. Not that you’re one of the skankiest skanks or even a skank. But you’ve mentioned that it’s been awhile since you’ve been in a relationship with a man and so I’ll look great to you and your comments are filled with sexual tension and innuendo of a girl on girl nature so I know my significant other will be pleased. We’ve been following your blog for weeks now or maybe a few days. The days all run together so it’s hard to remember. I blame the alcohol or the drugs. So what do you say? The three of us together could party like rock stars and have wild monkey sex. I’m not exaggerating about the monkey sex. My back is very hairy so it will be like having sex with a monkey. My significant other is from France so she’s kinda hairy, too.
 
Sid & Nancy

My Secret Admirer – Fourteen

CLICK ME

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, and that blogger along with the secret admirer wins a free copy of my ebook. Find out who that winner is by clicking on the trophy to your right.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

*****************

My Dearest Helena Elizabeth,

It is I, Patricia, and I have finally gathered up enough courage to write you and ask you this very important question:
Would you give me the honor of being my Special Lady Friend without the Sex?

(Wow, it feels really awesome to, at last, get that off of my chest!)

The bond I feel with you is unlike any I have ever felt before. I was just telling my husband the other day, “Husband, she is the one for me! She, Helena Elizabeth, is the Special Lady Friend without the Sex I have been dreaming of!”

You and I have bonded over our un-managed ADHD and I know you ‘GET ME’. You had me at hello Helena, you.had.me.at.hello.

I was thinking of coming out to your house and, when I move in, it will be sooo fun to hear all of our nosy neighbors saying things like, ” Look Gladys, Helena finally got herself a Special Lady Friend without the Sex, I hear that sorta thing is all the rage in Europe”. You always were a forward thinker Helena, your town needs this kind of thing! The world is ready for us honey bunny, I just know it.

For our first Special Lady Friend without the Sex nite in, I thought we could give in to our ADHD impulses and lure that attractive UPS guy you’ve spoken about into our home, to see if he can do something about our ‘without the Sex’ arrangement. We will have to start thinking outside of the box Helena, since we won’t be touching each others’ Boxes. ( although my husband has offered his services to you if you should ever need them)

I hope you will be as GIDDY as I am with the Marriage Contracts I had drawn up for our children! My oldest girl will marry your oldest boy, your middle boy will marry my youngest girl (even though she is only 5, she is very mature for her age), and your daughter may pick one of my 2 boys as her bethrothed beloved! It’s a match made in Special Lady Friend without the Sex heaven!

I look forward to being your muse for your next book and tears are already welling up as I reflect upon the Dedication you will write to me in those 1st few precious pages:

‘For Patricia,

I never knew what inexplicable joy I was missing in my life until I met you, my Special Lady Friend without the Sex’.

Oh Helena! Isn’t it WONDERFUL? My husband is so overjoyed with the treasure I have found in you, that he is sending me off tomorrow! He keeps muttering something about ‘that frigid woman’, but I am certain the poor dear is only concerned with it being so cold in the East this time of year!

So, my little Apple Blossom, are you ready for a ‘new chapter in your book’( get it? “New chapter in your book’? Ha-ha, you are a writer and we are starting a new chapter in OUR book) to begin?

A chapter filled with adopting stray cats, long walks and tire stacking, reading Jodi Picoult novels out loud to one another, painting each others toenails, Justin Bieber concerts with our Brady Bunch, no sex-unless it’s the battery operated kind,sharing ‘how to avoid bikini razor burn’ tips, guiding one another to finding the right kind of Spanx-not to be confused with Spanks, and an eternal kind of Special Lady Friend without the Sex  love?  I know I am ready Helena, ready like an eager beaver who doesn’t want to touch your beaver.

Fondly and Forever Yours in Special Lady Friend without the Sex love,

Patricia

XOXOXOXO

(X from the side and O only on your cheek or hand)

************

Dearest Patricia,

While the idea of having a “Special Lady Friend Without the Sex” sounds appealing, I am afraid that I am going to have to decline. Sadly, I’ve been down that road before, as I once had a “Special Man Friend Without the Sex.”

I called him my husband.

- Helena

CLICK THE TROPHY ABOVE FOR THE WINNER AND THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Love Letters Gone Wrong – Fourteen

women-symbol1

It’s time time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter was written by a lady blogger who was nominated for Prom Court in my GLITTER E. YANUS post. Check out this post and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

*** THE SECRET ADMIRER MAY HAVE WRITTEN A PREVIOUS LETTER ***

My Dearest Helena Elizabeth,

It is I, Patricia, and I have finally gathered up enough courage to write you and ask you this very important question:
Would you give me the honor of being my Special Lady Friend without the Sex?

(Wow, it feels really awesome to, at last, get that off of my chest!)

The bond I feel with you is unlike any I have ever felt before. I was just telling my husband the other day, “Husband, she is the one for me! She, Helena Elizabeth, is the Special Lady Friend without the Sex I have been dreaming of!”

You and I have bonded over our un-managed ADHD and I know you ‘GET ME’. You had me at hello Helena, you.had.me.at.hello.

I was thinking of coming out to your house and, when I move in, it will be sooo fun to hear all of our nosy neighbors saying things like, ” Look Gladys, Helena finally got herself a Special Lady Friend without the Sex, I hear that sorta thing is all the rage in Europe”. You always were a forward thinker Helena, your town needs this kind of thing! The world is ready for us honey bunny, I just know it.

For our first Special Lady Friend without the Sex nite in, I thought we could give in to our ADHD impulses and lure that attractive UPS guy you’ve spoken about into our home, to see if he can do something about our ‘without the Sex’ arrangement. We will have to start thinking outside of the box Helena, since we won’t be touching each others’ Boxes. ( although my husband has offered his services to you if you should ever need them)

I hope you will be as GIDDY as I am with the Marriage Contracts I had drawn up for our children! My oldest girl will marry your oldest boy, your middle boy will marry my youngest girl (even though she is only 5, she is very mature for her age), and your daughter may pick one of my 2 boys as her bethrothed beloved! It’s a match made in Special Lady Friend without the Sex heaven!

I look forward to being your muse for your next book and tears are already welling up as I reflect upon the Dedication you will write to me in those 1st few precious pages:

‘For Patricia,

I never knew what inexplicable joy I was missing in my life until I met you, my Special Lady Friend without the Sex’.

Oh Helena! Isn’t it WONDERFUL? My husband is so overjoyed with the treasure I have found in you, that he is sending me off tomorrow! He keeps muttering something about ‘that frigid woman’, but I am certain the poor dear is only concerned with it being so cold in the East this time of year!

So, my little Apple Blossom, are you ready for a ‘new chapter in your book'( get it? “New chapter in your book’? Ha-ha, you are a writer and we are starting a new chapter in OUR book) to begin?

A chapter filled with adopting stray cats, long walks and tire stacking, reading Jodi Picoult novels out loud to one another, painting each others toenails, Justin Bieber concerts with our Brady Bunch, no sex-unless it’s the battery operated kind,sharing ‘how to avoid bikini razor burn’ tips, guiding one another to finding the right kind of Spanx-not to be confused with Spanks, and an eternal kind of Special Lady Friend without the Sex  love?  I know I am ready Helena, ready like an eager beaver who doesn’t want to touch your beaver.

Fondly and Forever Yours in Special Lady Friend without the Sex love,

Patricia

XOXOXOXO

(X from the side and O only on your cheek or hand)


My Secret Admirer – Thirteen

CLICK ME

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, and that blogger along with the secret admirer wins a free copy of my ebook. Find out who that winner is by clicking on the trophy to your right.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

**********

To my dearest, last night was the most amazing experience of my life, you are the one for me, there is no other.

I write this on my knees praying that you understand……..I had no idea you had a twin sister. But please see my point, as I genuinely thought I was making love to you, not her. The animalistic passion she and I shared between those covers was just sex not the sort of love like we share.

Actually after 5 times it really started to wear off, which is why, when I realized I came straight over. I would have told you straight away but the whole candle lit dinner and silk lingerie followed by sex etc etc etc honestly wasn’t the right time to bring it up. Also having to shoot off to the pub afterwards with the boys meant that I needed to wait for this hangover to clear for you to know that this is genuine.

I also unequivocally promise this will never happen again as I can now easily tell you apart. Although after your breast implant it was more difficult to tell, hers do feel more natural.

Her bikini wax really makes her feel like a young girl, where there is a real maturity that you bring, which also makes it real easy when you are both dressed in a swimsuit. Luckily, even if it’s dark, I can always find your raised birthmark, which is a real positive given your sensitivity around its location and shape, who would have known it’s the only thing that’s not identical with twins.

It is fantastic that you have that great bond with your sister, you get to share so much. Why don’t you ask her about where she goes for her bikini wax, because man I reckon it would really take our lovemaking to the next level.

Anyway, it has been hard writing this, I hope you now see my undeniable love for you.

Gotta go, will pop around after footy.

PS, that lingerie really works for me :-)

**********

Dear Near-sighted Romeo,

I don’t know how you couldn’t tell my twin Carroll and I apart. I mean, Carroll’s hair is a full quarter shade darker than mine. Not to mention that I have freckles across my nose and cheeks. Carroll’s cheeks are almost bare. If you were any kind of boyfriend you’d have noticed that. I am also an entire centimeter taller which you should have noticed once my high heels were off. I suppose I could forgive you all those little things, but you need to explain to me how you managed to miss the fact that Carroll has a penis….

CLICK THE TROPHY ABOVE FOR THE WINNER AND THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Love Letters Gone Wrong – Thirteen

lingerie-love

It’s time time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter was written by a blogger who liked my Fuck Everything And Become A Pirate post. Check out this post and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

 

*** THE SECRET ADMIRER MAY HAVE WRITTEN A PREVIOUS LETTER ***

To my dearest, last night was the most amazing experience of my life, you are the one for me, there is no other.

 

I write this on my knees praying that you understand……..I had no idea you had a twin sister. But please see my point, as I genuinely thought I was making love to you, not her. The animalistic passion she and I shared between those covers was just sex not the sort of love like we share.

 

Actually after 5 times it really started to wear off, which is why, when I realized I came straight over. I would have told you straight away but the whole candle lit dinner and silk lingerie followed by sex etc etc etc honestly wasn’t the right time to bring it up. Also having to shoot off to the pub afterwards with the boys meant that I needed to wait for this hangover to clear for you to know that this is genuine.

 

I also unequivocally promise this will never happen again as I can now easily tell you apart. Although after your breast implant it was more difficult to tell, hers do feel more natural.

Her bikini wax really makes her feel like a young girl, where there is a real maturity that you bring, which also makes it real easy when you are both dressed in a swimsuit. Luckily, even if it’s dark, I can always find your raised birthmark, which is a real positive given your sensitivity around its location and shape, who would have known it’s the only thing that’s not identical with twins.

 

It is fantastic that you have that great bond with your sister, you get to share so much. Why don’t you ask her about where she goes for her bikini wax, because man I reckon it would really take our lovemaking to the next level.

 

Anyway, it has been hard writing this, I hope you now see my undeniable love for you.

Gotta go, will pop around after footy.

 

PS, that lingerie really works for me :-)


My Secret Admirer – Twelve

CLICK ME

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, and that blogger along with the secret admirer wins a free copy of my ebook. Find out who that winner is by clicking on the trophy to your right.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

***********

Dear “Has been known to take it from behind,”

It seems like forever since I read any of your posts, besides that first one I read so that I could post something in my comment that showed I actually took an interest in your work. It seems like there’s an entire internet between us and even though I’ve never seen your face I’m sure it’s tastefully… applied. I sometimes imagine you as the bits of worn scrap metal at glass beach just jagged enough to tear, waiting for some idiot to take his shoes off, that idiot was me. I hopped all the way back to my rental car. It sucked. Look, this only kind of relates to my undying and universe exploding slash shattering affection for your incredibly sexy literary prowess in bed, I mean in blog… blog form. Wait, you also wrote a book? What? Anyways, I think we should “hook up” because we could be awesome together and I have an immensely prodigious lexicon, if you know what I mean. I can also use reference sites like thesaurus.com if you find that sort of thing hot, thermogenic even. I don’t know how much more convincing I have to be, I’m pretty sure I nailed it in the first three run on sentences.

So you’ll call me on Friday right? Rhetorical question. The answer is yes, you will. Not only because I’m such a fine candidate but also because I will write you unbelievably romantic love poems (I know you love that shit). This one’s for you baby. When I think of you it hurts only half as much as when you comment on my blog like your words are a hailstorm on my heart and the innuendo is an instant in a silent room and all I want to do is scream so that you might stifle me with a kiss but I know there’s nothing in this that won’t leave me listless and lonely and I know you don’t really know me, but I know me, but I don’t know me like that and it’s that doubt that’s done me in, kept me from calling you at all (I have your phone number, don’t freak out, you’re neighbor Jim gave it to me while I was outside your house, back to the totally bitching poem I’m writing off the top of my head). I’ve left it alone and it’s festering into gargoyle stone suspended from the edges of my shoulders watching intently and ever presently ready to rip my flesh out to remind me why I need this protection. Golem wings can sing goosebump hums across my skin but your hands could settle them if you ever got close enough. End poem.

Sincerely, I’m not telling you my name so you can get a restraining order.

 

*************

 

Dear Anonymous,

 

Since I don’t know your name I have decided to call you…Rudolpho.

Rudolpho, I am overcome with emotion at the raw intensity of your poem. I too fester with love for you and I think of you most often when I am alone, like when I hide under the stairs in my basement and carve your name into my arm. Please don’t let the names of my past boyfriends worry you, I burned them off with a propane torch before cutting in yours.

Even though I’ve been in love before I know that this is the real thing, as I have never been moved to shave my armpits in anticipation of an epic round of monkey sex with anyone before. Along those lines I feel I should let you know that I was born in the seventies, so I hope you are into the “natural” look.

Based on what was discerned from the outline of the bulge in your Wranglers, my neighbor Jim is convinced that you are hung like a horse. I don’t have to tell you that he was absolutely elated when I offered to share you with him. He wishes to pass along his assurances that he will take good care of you as he rides you like a rented mule.

Bring lube.

CLICK THE TROPHY ABOVE FOR THE WINNER AND THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Love Letters Gone Wrong – Twelve

gargoyle

It’s time time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter was written by a blogger who is new to my site . Check out the blogs below and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

CASSIE BEHLE

FONDUE KID

THE MAN WHO FEARS WAR

TRAILER TRASH DELUXE’S BLOG

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Dear “Has been known to take it from behind,”

It seems like forever since I read any of your posts, besides that first one I read so that I could post something in my comment that showed I actually took an interest in your work. It seems like there’s an entire internet between us and even though I’ve never seen your face I’m sure it’s tastefully… applied. I sometimes imagine you as the bits of worn scrap metal at glass beach just jagged enough to tear, waiting for some idiot to take his shoes off, that idiot was me. I hopped all the way back to my rental car. It sucked. Look, this only kind of relates to my undying and universe exploding slash shattering affection for your incredibly sexy literary prowess in bed, I mean in blog… blog form. Wait, you also wrote a book? What? Anyways, I think we should “hook up” because we could be awesome together and I have an immensely prodigious lexicon, if you know what I mean. I can also use reference sites like thesaurus.com if you find that sort of thing hot, thermogenic even. I don’t know how much more convincing I have to be, I’m pretty sure I nailed it in the first three run on sentences.

So you’ll call me on Friday right? Rhetorical question. The answer is yes, you will. Not only because I’m such a fine candidate but also because I will write you unbelievably romantic love poems (I know you love that shit). This one’s for you baby. When I think of you it hurts only half as much as when you comment on my blog like your words are a hailstorm on my heart and the innuendo is an instant in a silent room and all I want to do is scream so that you might stifle me with a kiss but I know there’s nothing in this that won’t leave me listless and lonely and I know you don’t really know me, but I know me, but I don’t know me like that and it’s that doubt that’s done me in, kept me from calling you at all (I have your phone number, don’t freak out, you’re neighbor Jim gave it to me while I was outside your house, back to the totally bitching poem I’m writing off the top of my head). I’ve left it alone and it’s festering into gargoyle stone suspended from the edges of my shoulders watching intently and ever presently ready to rip my flesh out to remind me why I need this protection. Golem wings can sing goosebump hums across my skin but your hands could settle them if you ever got close enough. End poem.

Sincerely, I’m not telling you my name so you can get a restraining order.


My Secret Admirer – Eleven

CLICK ME

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, and that blogger along with the secret admirer wins a free copy of my ebook. Find out who that winner is by clicking on the trophy to your right.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

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To my one true love H.E. Ellis,

I really had to write this letter to you and express my feelings.  First off I wanted to say, I have a HUGE crush on you.  Yes, I know.  You read my blog and know by now that I tend to seduce different women from time to time, and might feel that you’re just going to be my next conquest, but I Promise you are the only woman I have told that I have a Huge Crush on all day!  As you also know, I’m all about following my dreams, so once I realized how amazing a woman you really are I couldn’t hesitate any longer.  Something about the comment you left me about Rocking my Blogroll sparked something inside me that I tried to resist and ignore at first, but things happened.  I couldn’t resist my growing feelings any longer.

Now I don’t want to be a jerk and stroke your ego, and I certainly don’t want you to think of me as anal, so I’ll tell you what happened that made me come all over the idea that you were truly the ideal woman for me.  I know this may not make sense when you first read it but if you really think long and hard about this, you can grab hold of the hugeness of the meaning and allow it to slip deep inside your mind and penetrate deeply into your thoughts. I’m sure once you’re done reading this, you’ll come over and over and over and over again to the conclusion that, despite my seductive nature, I’m just a regular guy with a big, giant heart on my sleeve, and that we could find true happiness penetrating deep into our lives.  The kind of happiness you can really feel and see growing stronger, if we really could come together in that special way, that only true lovers feel.

Let me explain:

I was having a discussion with my friend’s wife, Kat, the other day.  Rod is her husband, and a good buddy of mine, who own’s a little butcher shop on the south side of Chicago called Rod’s Meats.  Well, Kat was explaining to me how boring her job as manager of Rod’s Meats had been getting.  It had become really routine.  All she would do was write the checks, process the orders, do a bunch of paperwork and scheduling.  She was also in charge of taking in the meat deliveries when they arrived.  Like I said, she told me that her job had become really mundane, until recently, when something amazingly unexpected took place.

Kat told me that a few days ago, they had a much larger than average sausage order get delivered to the store.  Usually they can take the meat right in the front door, but this sausage order was way too large. She decided, instead of just trying to jam it all in the front door, that they would try something different.  So, Kat decided she wanted to try taking the meat in the back door, and boy was she satisfied that she did!

She said at first it was a little rough, but after a couple of minutes she said she found herself relaxing, and soon the sausage started to slide in a lot smoother.  Kat said it felt so amazing and different, taking all that meat in the back door, so much so that she said it brought tears to her eyes a little.  All that meat just come flooding through the back door and before you know it they dropped an entire load all over the backside of her shop!  Kat told me she loved it so much, she couldn’t wait till the next time she could have someone deliver a really huge sausage order to her backdoor!

And for some strange reason, that got me thinking about you!  Call me silly, but it’s like her story awoke something in me and it was then I realized my love for you.  I think if you can bend things over in your mind, you might realize how truly real and special this love is.  It’s that special kind of love that can really sneak up on you, almost like it’s coming from behind you, where you can create an opening for all of this specialness and allow it to penetrate deep inside your soul.

But we can be even more than just lovers.  You have your book and the growing success of your blog to think about and that’s where I can really help you beyond just some random, “back door” passion that most guys will want to offer you.  H.E. Ellis, my true love, you are not like other women.  You’ve got something….  Something special, and I want it badly.  I want to be the man behind the woman!  I realize I’m coming all over you here, but it’s been building up inside me for weeks, and I can’t control myself.  Let me show you what you’ve got inside of you, what could be inside of you if you’d just give me the tiniest hole of opportunity.  Let’s go away together on our own little fantasy vacation.  Just give me the word and I’ll book a flight out from Chicago to come see you.  We can go back to your place right now and pack your shit!

Please don’t analyze this too much even if this does seem to be coming from behind. Let’s just take this whole thing all in, naturally.  I knows it’s a lot to grab hold of, maybe even hard to swallow, but if you can really strip away, and close off to all the things in life holding you back, you might find what we have is a rare and special kind of love, so innocent and pure, that can explode like an erupting volcano if we spread things open to allow it to grow.

Yours truly,
Loverboy Royale (Name changed to protect the innocent)

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Dear Loverboy Royale,

I want you to know that your words have touched me deeply. I’ve come to see that all these years I spent as a vegetatrian have been a total waste of time. You’ve made me realize there is a whole world out there beyond cucumbers and zucchini. I suppose it would also explain why I am protein deficient.

Yes, please hurry in from Chicago. I can’t wait for you to toss my salad!

Love,

H.E.

CLICK THE TROPHY ABOVE FOR THE WINNER AND THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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