Dear Dude with the smallest penis in the world,
Monday was my birthday and I truly I love my birthdays. Unlike many other middle aged women, I celebrate every birthday and embrace getting older.
I love my birthday so much that I put reminders everywhere - colleagues outlook calendars, post it notes around the house, messages on my husbands phone. My closest friends usually message me nice and early to wake me up because they know how much I love my special day (thanks Ky).
This birthday (14th Sept, just in case you want to put it in your phone for next year), you were the first person to send me a message! How cool is that! And you don't even know me.
I also get that you didn't know I was on-call, which meant my phone (my work phone) was beside my bed, ready to take your 1:30am phone call.
And call you did. But you hung up before I could work out who you were.
So you sent me a pic of yourself.
Now because I wear glasses and it was the middle of the night, I didn't quite understand what you were trying to achieve and I innocently thought you were sending me a picture of Pinnochio (not quite at the lie telling stage).
But then I realised you were sending me a picture of your little penis.
Dude, this is what Snapchat is for. Snapchat means it disappears after about 20mins. Which in your case would have been a really nice way of disappearing into oblivion and not remaining on a strangers phone.
But then you called me again! Some heavy breathing on the other end, and me threatening to report you to the police probably resulted in you "losing" the loving feeling.
But being the zen chick that I am, I forgive you.
I didn't report you to the police. I wanted to, but then I saw the funny side. You sent a pic of your tiny penis to the wrong number. You didn't get as lucky as you'd hoped, but I've dined out on your story all week. I reckon I have a months worth of story telling.
In fact, because of you, I rated my 46th Birthday an 11.5 out of 10. It started with a dick, and it ended with the end of a dick (Tony Abbott).
Thanks for making my birthday pretty bloody fantastic!
Lisa.
(PS, dont forget to put my birthday in your diary for next year!)
Monday was my birthday and I truly I love my birthdays. Unlike many other middle aged women, I celebrate every birthday and embrace getting older.
I love my birthday so much that I put reminders everywhere - colleagues outlook calendars, post it notes around the house, messages on my husbands phone. My closest friends usually message me nice and early to wake me up because they know how much I love my special day (thanks Ky).
This birthday (14th Sept, just in case you want to put it in your phone for next year), you were the first person to send me a message! How cool is that! And you don't even know me.
I also get that you didn't know I was on-call, which meant my phone (my work phone) was beside my bed, ready to take your 1:30am phone call.
And call you did. But you hung up before I could work out who you were.
So you sent me a pic of yourself.
Now because I wear glasses and it was the middle of the night, I didn't quite understand what you were trying to achieve and I innocently thought you were sending me a picture of Pinnochio (not quite at the lie telling stage).
But then I realised you were sending me a picture of your little penis.
Dude, this is what Snapchat is for. Snapchat means it disappears after about 20mins. Which in your case would have been a really nice way of disappearing into oblivion and not remaining on a strangers phone.
But then you called me again! Some heavy breathing on the other end, and me threatening to report you to the police probably resulted in you "losing" the loving feeling.
But being the zen chick that I am, I forgive you.
I didn't report you to the police. I wanted to, but then I saw the funny side. You sent a pic of your tiny penis to the wrong number. You didn't get as lucky as you'd hoped, but I've dined out on your story all week. I reckon I have a months worth of story telling.
In fact, because of you, I rated my 46th Birthday an 11.5 out of 10. It started with a dick, and it ended with the end of a dick (Tony Abbott).
Thanks for making my birthday pretty bloody fantastic!
Lisa.
(PS, dont forget to put my birthday in your diary for next year!)
