The Normal People, Part Dos

As further proof that New York is full of f*ing psycho’s, the following is a REAL letter that a REAL friend of mine received on MySpace- the home of networking, fun time-wasting and Internet stalkers.

I have added my personal commentary in blue. Be warned, I got kind of pissed the further down I went, b/c this is so ludicrous. Funny but ludicrous.

Dear A-
I would like to apologize for clogging your inbox with this message (so why are you doing it a-hole), but I found your ad so irresistible that I had no choice but to write to you.

My name is Trent and I recently moved to New York City. I have only known one true happiness in the world, and that is the unmitigated joy of a woman. (Obviously he has never dealt with a woman with a period. No woman on planet Earth provides unmitigated joy.) My life's passion is to give everything of myself to a woman--to devote my every waking thought to her happiness and to endeavor to play a part in the fulfillment of her life.

I began my journey in high school as I approached women as a submissive maid and errand boy. (In high school, we called people like this “nerds.”) What began as a simply rendezvous to clean their house (and by this I mean “vagina”) would almost inevitably find it's way into transcendent conversation. To this day I still speak to several of the women that I served in my formative years.

I followed this path through college. My personal life would vacillate from dating a sorority girl for six months, to becoming deeply involved as a woman's servant for the next six. There wasn't much rhyme or reason to my movements--I simply followed what felt natural at the moment, but I began to find that the relationships where I acted as a woman's slave were remarkable. No two encounters were ever the same (whereas I could often mark the geography of a traditional relationship with a map--understanding where I would find myself after the third date or second month). What initially began as a simple arrangement of my doing a woman's errands and chores would inevitably lead somewhere else. (Cause nothing says let’s be more than friends than hey, can you scrub my toilet while you’re at it?) I might find myself hiking to the top of a mountain at dawn for yoga poses, training a woman for a marathon or hosting a dinner party for her friends. (Where did you go to school, loser? What about doing my homework during football games? Now that would have been useful.)

It took a while to place my finger on the pulse of the situation, but, when I finally found it, the truth was simple: By building a relationship of unmitigated honesty (yada yada), devoted to the sole purpose of finding a way to be a part of a woman's happiness (you could start by being a little less long-winded), we both found a place devoid of the usual constraints of inhibition. By freeing myself of any desire beyond contributing to the woman's life, by making myself her slave, she began to grow in a completely unbounded way.

Throughout college I worked as an assistant to a lawyer, but one day we stumbled upon the topic of submission and the relationship morphed into slavery. I acted as assistant, sissy maid, (huh?) errand boy, cook, chauffeur and personal trainer to her and her daughter (GROSS! And how can you be both sissy maid and personal trainer? I smell sexual confusion.). It was perhaps the most fulfilling 18 moths (moths? You can actually use the word transcendental in a sentence, but had a trouble with the word “month”) my life, and what drove me forward in the world. (Sorry but your mom’s birth canal actually did this…)
I found myself living with two dominant women this year--as their roommate to the world, but slave in actuality. I truly enjoyed my time with them, but one of the women recently became engaged and asked that I simply be her flatmate. I find such transitions too painful, and so I came to New York to write and find a new owner in this magical city. (Aha! He’s English- no wonder!)

I am seeking a woman to take me as her property. I am eager to be your maid, assistant, errand boy, chauffeur, masseur, personal trainer--literally ANYTHING you ask of me, will be done. To the world I will simply be your employee and friend (aka gigolo a-hole), but you will know the joys of having a handsome man cleaning your house in the outfit of your choosing. (The scent of sexual confusion becomes stronger.) The ability to wake me from a deep slumber at 3 am to fetch a favorite snack; an attractive man to work like a dog for you and your friends' amusement, and a true and constant confidant. Through this time I will be completely devoted to you, but you will be free of any restraints to pursue your romantic desires. (Grow a sac dude!)

I suppose a little more about me would be helpful. I am a 25 year-old Jewish man. I love music, theatre, movies, sports and literature. I am clean-cut and well spoken. I have a great relationship with my parents and have worked as a personal trainer and personal assistant at the highest levels. (Of what? I would bet this guy weighs a buck-oh-five soaking wet).

Would you have any interest in allowing me to be your slave?

Best,
XX

Seriously- what is wrong with people? I was laughing so hard when I read this, my co-workers actually had to ask me what was so funny so I told them. As it turns out, THIS IS COMMON. My one co-worker had a friend who had a slave for a short time. It so happens I have met this girl and she’s in a band called the Flaming Vagina Lips, or something like that anyways, but still??? I mean this is seriously weird to advertise and even weirder that someone WANTS this. I will forever be amazed by peopl but this makes me angry for some reason.

I HATE THIS MOVIE POSTER

On an unrelated note, does this movie poster scare the living sh** out of everyone, or is it just me?



I have to see this every time I get on the subway and in my morning blur, I hate seeing this red-eyed beak-y bird thing starting at me with those two fingers. I hate it more than words can express. Thank you very much for ruining my morning commute you indy bastards.