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It’s getting close to Valentine’s Day, and once more it seems like I’ll be at a loose end, and why the hell should I be? Women folk, I can tell you that I’m a catch, don’t you know? I’m a cross between George, Clooney, Bruce Forsyth, Ainsley Harriot… and Freddy Kruger – so I’m a lady killer in one way or another.
Anyway, I thought it would be a good idea to have an open application process for the questionable honour of being my Valentine. So please apply below. CVs, testimonials, pleading letters and bribes all graciously accepted. Rest assured that all applications will be duly considered on their merits.
Dear Mr Trawler,
I have just read your appeal with some interest (with the emphasis on the word some, i.e. I looked up from my coffee momentarily).
It’s an interesting approach, asking for applications, but your indication of a willingness to accept pleading letters and bribes bemuse me; surely you should be the one offering such things when you consider the high quality of the women folk on the JC boards?
However I hate to see someone so disheartened so I’m submitting a token application so that you don’t feel too rejected.
Your description of yourself intrigues me and I wonder, do you have a recent photograph? I myself am a cross between Nigella Lawson, Dawn French, Ann Widdicombe and Cruella De Vil. People find my looks so unusual, some say striking, that I have agreed to a sitting for a portrait by renowned portrait painter Pablo Warhol over the next month. I shall be happy to provide a photocopy of said painting if you would send me a postal order to cover my costs.
I’m afraid I can’t provide testimonials as most of my previous valentines seem to have changed their mobiles since we shared such passionate times; I’m sure they’ll reply to my emails requesting their new phone numbers soon though…well, those whose emails haven’t been returned as invalid account anyway…which is most of them come to think of it.
Oh and I don’t plead, too unbecoming of a lady of my standing, 50 Shades of Grey might have suggested that us ladies like to but not this one. However if you would like to consider the pleasure of my cyber-company on Valentines Day then I would be open to the offer of such delights as chocolates, flowers, fine wine and dining and a foot massage would be lovely too…I think the verrucas and the fungal infection under my big toenail will have cleared up by then.
I think I’ve covered everything in your appeal and I do hope that the joy of receiving a reply from someone so sought after as myself has helped your self-esteem (I’m not sure why Interpol keep me under surveillance though, I have explained the circumstances of the deaths of my last 15 husbands, all such sad accidents for men so rich and young with everything to live for).
Should you have any further questions please do not hesitate to ask.
Kindest regards,
JenP.S. my approach to eating a Cadbury’s Flake is legendary…
LOL
Absolutely hilarious. Deserves a a much better reply than this but momentarily rendered speechless. Love it.
Dear Miss Jen
Many thanks for your speedy application.
A limited edition photocopy of a portrait by the esteemed Pablo Warhol would in time, no doubt, become a valuable asset and would actually add some veracity to my usual approach at luring the ladies when I say, ‘would you like to come upstairs and view my etchings?’ I’d actually have something to show them.
Under normal circumstances I would gladly send the necessary funds to ensure your expenses are covered, however the cost of a £2.50 postal order will dramatically impact my ability to wine and dine you in the manner that you are undoubtedly accustomed to. Would I seem any less of a catch if I asked if you had any objections to going Dutch?
You mentioned a passing acquaintance with the 50 Shades trilogy, I have yet to take the necessary time to read the tomes, alas. Furthermore, I’ve been reliable informed by male colleagues – erstwhile gigolos to a man – that any semblance of self-confidence that I’m currently able to muster would be destroyed in an instance. However – and this is only slightly intended as a blatant attempt to give you a modicum of an idea of the delights promised – my Mastermind subject would be the works and life of Dr Alex Comfort.
As a matter of coincidence I happen to be on close terms with the chief forensic pathologist at Interpol and she has reliably informed me that your last 15 husbands all died with a smile on their faces. It seems to me that the aphorism it’s not important how long you have lived; it’s what you got up to is rather apposite at this juncture.
Nigella Lawson, Dawn French, Ann Widdicombe and Cruella de Vil you say? Would I be wrong to suggest that you’re a sexy, funny lady who can be rather bossy and animated in the boudoir? Please refrain from answering this question if I’m terribly mistaken, I’ve conjured the mental image now and I’d like it to linger a little longer.
In closing you sound like just kind of cosmopolitan lady that an erudite man like me should consider engaging in prolonged epistolary communication with. Please don’t think my decision-making process is in anyway influenced by the lack of respondents.
P.S: would you be impressed by the promise of ride on my Stannah?
Regards,
Rusty Trawler
P.S. “chocolate and jiggy”, I just wondered which part of the definition of jiggy you were applying
jig·gy [jig-ee]
adjective, jig·gi·er, jig·gi·est. Slang.
1.
nervous; active; excitedly energetic.
2.
wonderful and exciting, especially because stylish.I can understand you getting nervous in my presence but can we leave the active and excitedly energetic at the door and instead focus on the wonderful and exciting (me) please? Stylishly of course.
(licks lips seductively at the thought of the chocolate…)
Dear Mr Trawler,
I will forego the postal order however I flatly refuse to go Dutch, their insistence on wearing clogs and waving tulips around whilst impersonating windmills is, quite frankly, rather irritating and let’s not mention the smell of cheese that wafts around them…although it does explain why they feel the need to encase their cheeses in wax.
I much prefer Italian but as much as I love the scene in Lady and the Tramp, I must insist on my own bowl of spaghetti. If money is an issue then I will leave some of the pasta sauce at the bottom of the bowl for you to mop up with the free bread that they always provide.
I personally haven’t read 50 Shades, I hear it described as mummy porn which excludes me as I am not a mummy, yummy or otherwise. However my friends who are mummies have gone into so many raptures over the contents that I feel that I know it well enough to know that I am not one of those “ladies”…I use the term loosely here of course.
I am so glad that your friend has exonerated me, it seems the brown envelope found its way to its destination safely after all. I had my doubts, those diplomatic bags always seem to untrustworthy and the Zorgan Embassy was a new one on me. However the purple man made a lot of eye contact as he was reassuring me although I wasn’t quite sure where the middle one of the three was looking…I think he was admiring my ample assets.
With regards your Stannah, has it been serviced recently? The last one I was offered a ride on had an unfortunate issue with the braking at the top and seemed to move at a rather high speed, fortunately I had persuaded my 16th husband (sadly no longer with us) to test it for me first. It was suggested that I sue the very kind gentleman who had serviced it for me but I couldn’t, we had an understanding after all. I still have his details here somewhere when your Stannah is due its service.
Incidentally, do you have a will? And are you close to your family?
Yours increasingly fondly,
J x
Great posts rusty and jen…… wish I could write so well, so will just say
Dear Mr Trawler
Get your coat, you’ve pulled :D
Yours sincerely
Mrs_Teapot_curvy_hot_minx
thinks the name will clinch it
Dear Jen
I’m heartened that my parsimonious disposition hasn’t tempered our correspondence in any way. I’m a technological Luddite by nature but new fangled emails have the advantage of removing the need for a stamp budget, and the savings thus far have been utilised to enhance my bespoke aftershave collection. I’m extremely confident that I will be the recipient of your olfactory gratitude when you experience the sensory wonders of Eau de Stilton.
Mummy p.orn or p.orn of any description sounds horrendous to someone of my delicate constitution, so I’m glad you’re not that sort of lady. But you mentioned the love scene in the The Lady and the Tramp, and I happen to know it is the title to of a rarely seen x-rated Charlie Chaplin film. Are we talking about the same film?
I am more than willing to partake of Italian cuisine, and even more eager to mop my bread in your sauce.
I must declare that I have been rather lapse with the servicing of the Stannah, and, since I’m in a confessional mood, I feel the urge to confide in you that it has been a while since I have serviced anything. I’m told it’s rather like riding a bike, a skill I have failed to master ever since that unfortunate incident with a penny farthing.
I don’t have a will because I don’t think any of my kith or kin will foster any interest in inheriting my vast collection of antiquated playing cards embossed with anachronistic images of Victorian ladies consuming Cadbury Flakes. Perhaps you’re a kindred spirit and would be a worthy home for my collection should I befall upon tragic and unforeseeable circumstances. I only ask because one of the nibbling ladies on the playing cards has striking similarity to the description of your countenance in your first correspondence.
I’d love to say more but my cognitive facilities are currently occupied in trying to comprehend what Mrs Teapot is implying in her correspondence. Perhaps you can help. What have I ‘pulled’ and why would I require a coat?
With deepest affection,
Rusty Trawler
P.S: did you mention ample assets?
Made me laugh =D>
Bows out gracefully, I cant possibly compete with jens flake routine :D
Mrs T meant it is cold out and you need to keep your extremities warm – especially the old cadbury flake
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