| From
Alison486, 22, 5'8" --
I love to laugh, have lots of fun, and chat with interesting people
! Just be honest, sincere, and yourself...maybe you're the person
I've been searching for...
Dear
Alison486,
I
know this sounds weird, but I can't stop thinking about you. So
I thought I'd write and and tell you a little bit
about myself. Then, once you know "the real me" you
can make your own decision.
My real
name is Chip. I hope you can respect a guy who is
sensitive, and in touch with his feelings. I’m
twenty-five, and I come from a small town in Vermont. My
parents ran a seasonal business at the base of a popular skiing
resort, where they sold amusing t-shirts to the tourists who
would come for a weekend of snowy fun. I was a shy, tall
child. The
other kids used to laugh at me, point at me, and call me a
variety of cruel names like “string bean” “flagpole” and “Chip” Kids
can be so cruel, can’t they ? If
you had to pick an experience that defined who I was, it would
be the day of my fifteenth birthday. I knew my parents were
planning a surprise party for me, and all day I stayed outside
so they could decorate the house and wrap the presents. My
mom kept coming out with hot chocolate (I was born in December)
and kept telling me, “Don’t come in until your father
calls you !” Later that afternoon, she stopped coming
out. It got darker. Then it was night. I knocked
on the door, but no one answered. To this day, my parents
said that they were asleep, but I never got any presents that year. They
sent me to a military school the year after that. I don’t
talk to them much.
I
just got here in Los Angeles about two years ago, and I’m
still having trouble fitting in. I think it’s really
cool that you live in Santa Monica. If we became girlfriend
and boyfriend, then I could tell all my friends back in Vermont “Hey,
my girlfriend lives in Santa Monica” Then maybe the
voices would go away, and I wouldn’t feel so alone. Also,
if my parents ever let me come back home during the holidays, maybe
you could come home with me and I could say “Hey Mom and
Dad, this is my girlfriend Alison486, and she lives in Santa Monica,
and I don’t need to come home to your stinking house, and
we’re going skiing, and I hate t-shirts and I hate you !” Maybe
for Easter or something. Do
you like cats too ?
Write
soon ! -Darrell
My
mailbox feels so damned lonely,
19, 5’11” -- “Hi!
I am 19 years old from Germany, and I am searching for someone
to write to regularly because I will have my written exams
in english this coming January. I need to practice a little
though. If you wanna get to know more about me check out my
profile... I hope to hear from you soon!”
Dear
"My Future Best Friend And Wife"
I
went through your profile like you suggested, and WOW ! You
are my idea of a perfect woman, the sort of girl I’ve wanted
to marry ever since I was a little boy and had to listen to my
grandfather drone on and on and on about the German women he met
when he was fighting in the great war. In fact, I printed
out your picture and showed it to my white furry pussycat (his
name is Gunnar, and he’s a big furry, fluffy, meow-meow)
and he just purred and purred and rubbed his face and paws over
the picture, much like I hope to do later tonight. Anyway,
I’ve always wanted to marry a German woman in order to spite
my grandfather, who blames your people for the loss of his leg. He
says that he was praying at a church called “Hofbrauhaus” (it’s
supposed to be the center to all religion in Germany) when a drunk
Korean midget started whacking his knees constantly with a harpoon. Well,
grandfather just laughed at the poor fellow (they had lost their
own war, after all) but didn’t get the minor cuts looked
after, and it turns out that they were infected. Thirty years
later, they had to cut the leg off in order to save the rest of
his thigh. He was a proud man, but never accepted the fact
that he has to lean in one direction for the rest of his life. I
think it makes you bitter.
Anyway,
I’m 25 years old,
and I now live in Los Angeles, where I go to school and tend bar
in West Hollywood at night. The pay isn’t that good,
but my manager, Karl, is really nice to me, and keeps promising
that he’s going to give me a special, hickory smoked cheese
log for Christmas this year. He keeps going on, and on, and
on about it’s special aroma and texture. Isn’t
he a nut ? Anyway, one day I hope you will come to America
and then we could meet and fall in love for a few hours. Do you
like cats too ?
Write
soon ! –Darrell
She
wrote back -- "Tell me some more about
yourself and your way of living...and I was actually pretty
bitter after you telling me the whole life story of
your grandfather and not about yours. My generation has nothing
to do with this war and I am happy that we had the American,
English and French over here and it was a pity when they
left. Do you have a pic of yourself to send ?"
From
Calling All Packers Fans - “I've never done
this before, so I don't want it to sound stupid, but I'm
new to LA and am looking for someone fun to hang out with.
I am 5'6'', have blond hair and green eyes and am up for
doing anything fun. I love to watch the Packers play (or
any other NFL team, for that matter!), snow skiing, rollerblading,
tennis, and trying out new restaurants. A perfect Sunday
afternoon for me is hanging out at a sports bar and watching
football with a group of people. You are a SWM, professional,
24-27, cute (or at least attractive, because I am!), and
tall (over 5'9") who can help me meet some fun people
in this fantastic city! E-mail me!”
Dear
Packers Fan,
I
was so excited to read your personal ad that I jumped up and
startled my white furry football cat, Wiggles (I know it’s
a silly name, but I named him after that dance that the famous
Seahawks running back “Leroy (the walrus)
Johnson” used to do back in the mid eighties) I’m
actually a Washington Redskins fan, but I don’t have
any ill feelings towards the Packers AT ALL. I know everything
there is to know about the Packers and the other teams. Hell,
I even like those little triangles that you guys wear on your heads. But
why the triangle ? Why not some other sort of shape ?
My
family is a real football family, except my brother, Karl, who
is a homosexual and doesn’t
like football. When he was little, my mom had all of these
traditions during the games. If the Redskins were losing
at halftime, she would dress my brother (I swear I am not making
this up) in a white dress and burgundy pumps. Then the whole
family would sing “Hail to the Redskins” and he would
sort of shuffle…I’ve got it on Super 8…you
should come over and watch it some time ! Anyway, Karl doesn’t
like football and he says it has nothing to do with him being queer,
but you know it does. But don’t take all this the wrong
way…I’m all man. Do you like cats too ?
Write
soon ! -Darrell
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