Wednesday, January 11, 2006

An Open Letter To Figleaves.com


My darling:

It's been weeks, now, that we've been locked in this delicious dance: you send me postcards...I come to visit you...I leave, spent, only to jump up at the mail truck and wait eagerly for the fruits of our congress.

I know you only want the best for me - that I always be utterly strippable in the best possible way, clad in the finest underfinery one can find - but my sweet, please understand: I don't have time for this relationship right now. We have to slow down.

I can hardly take it anymore. I'm gonna miss you, baby.

Until my next big paycheck, that is.

XOXOX,
Annette

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