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Posts
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Dear Rusty Trawler
As a nurse (as in the naughty dress up variety) I happen to know it’s very bad for a man to be without a date on valentines day. All that sexual energy and no release. Many a man has died from much less, I can tell you. And as a Good Samaritan I feel that it’s my duty to take pity on you, so please find my CV and a video (for educational purposes only) attached.
It might be a good idea to close the curtains whilst watching the video and mute the sound if you have thin walls.
Here are some testimonials for the attached film:
‘Yes! Yes! Yes!… I’ll have what’s she’s having.’ – Heat magazine
‘Bleeding hell! How did that one get a PG classification’ – Barry Norman
‘You don’t get many of those to the dozen’ – Empire magazine
‘Sorry I can’t review this film, I went blind after the first five minutes’ – The Sun
I look forward to hearing from you
Best wishes,
Snix
Dear Mr Trawler,
What can I say, I am so embarrassed and owe you a huge apology, it seems I have made a terrible mistake.
If you recall, in my last correspondence I was about to meet husband 18 and fly off to warmer climes. Fortunately for me we had not yet married; we were to wed on an idyllic beach on his private island. Oh what a fool I have been! I arrived at the airstrip but my sixth sense prompted me to hold back and just as well I did. Oh dear Mr Trawler, imagine my surprise when I saw a group of men hastily masking out a word on the side of the plane that struck fear into my very soul…Interpol! I have wrongly accused you it seems and I can only beg your forgiveness (it seems I’m starting to get into the habit of begging doesn’t it?) and blame the paranoid tendencies that torment a tender soul like myself. When living your life surrounded by people having fatal accidents you can’t help but wonder whether there is an outside agency at work and when it will be your turn for an accident to befall you. I may well be paranoid, however it seems that, as much as I protest my innocence, Interpol are indeed prepared to stoop to any level to entrap me.
So here I am; I remain single but now have the added complication of having to go into hiding whilst I decide what to do next. I am quite distressed at the situation I find myself in as I simply don’t know who to trust. I had met husband 18 in the JC chatroom late at night whilst suffering insomnia. I was tired, lonely, vulnerable, and like so many women before me I fell for the smooth talking of a faceless name on the screen. Oh he told me I was so different from the others, so special, and he promised me such a wonderful life if I would only chat to him and I fell for it, hook, line and sinker! I thought I was so careful too, always checking that the gentlemen that I chatted to were not involved with other women – despite what you may think of me, I have never knowingly set my sights on another woman’s loved one no matter how much they don’t seem to understand them.
Enough about me though, I am rather concerned about you. Although the dossier that I passed to Mrs Teapot’s husband was patently concerning the husband 18 that never was (I must say the photograph that he emailed me from his hotmail account did fit the description you gave of yourself) the personal details such as name, address and so on were most definitely yours. I seem, by my foolish actions, to have placed your life in as much danger as mine, if not more so.
Let me offer a remedy that will hopefully be acceptable to us both. I have secured the use of a cabin for as long as I need it. It is in a secluded location, hidden from view but with very high tech gismos that will warn us in plenty of time of anyone approaching. There are lots of other gismos there to delight and pleasure us both and to make the confinement one that we will not want to end. My ample assets are intact but should you find me repellent after recent events and not wish to share the delights of the cabin with me then there is an adjoining annex, I think they call it a granny flat, where you could hole up until the dust settles.
Of course, assuming that you accept my offer of safe refuge, there is the matter of getting you here safely. May I ask how much you trust your JC brethren? Could they be trusted to smuggle you here and not disclose the whereabouts even if tortured by nubile wenches employed by Interpol or the whippets of the Yorkshire Mafia? I would, of course, embrace the role of your paramour wholeheartedly so that you can retain their respect and admiration.
I do so hope that you accept my apology and consider my offer of safe refuge, it distresses me to think of you in mortal danger.
Yours fondly,
JenP.S. I note that others are now vying for your attention; I beg you to take care, who knows what lengths the Yorkshire Mafia or Interpol will stoop to in order to find us. I shudder to think of poor innocent JC women being used so but it isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. The naughty nurse is an old one of theirs, as is the one who pretends to by shy; be wary, I implore you, a few moments of pleasure with such ladies (and I use the term loosely) can only bring untold pain afterwards (although I’m told there are some very good creams on the market these days).
I do so apologise for dragging you into this sorry mess.
Dear Mr Trawler & Miss jenjen
It’s a well known fact that when a Yorkshire man is annoyed, their response is typically a tut followed by: “…I’m gonna write a letter.” This is that letter!
It has shocked me to the core that you dare to draw attention to my clandestine pursuits, and what business it of yours how I make my money? If it were not for my lovely wife’s appeals for restraint I would definitely take this matter further!
Here in Yorkshire, we know that life is difficult enough without some “testa di cazzo” (clean translation: pain in the ass) giving you a hard time, telling you what to do, or getting in your way!
On this occasion consider yourselves very lucky not to be receiving a visit from “the boys” however I trust this will not be necessary. But be warned I am not a manto be trifled with! (BTW my wife makes a lovely trifle)
Thank you and Tanti Saluti da Corleone!
Mr Corleone Teapot
Dear Mr Teapot,
I do hope that you will keep this correspondence private and I will be brief (there’s a first time for everything!). Could you please let Mr Trawler believe that you’re after him for a little while longer? It won’t take much longer for me to entice him into my cabin and I have such delights planned for him.
Your assistance in this matter would be very much appreciated and I will of course repay it in full. I make a mean spag bol, just-a like-a mamma used to make-a.
Please pass my fondest regards to your lovely wife.
Yours,
Jenum yeah ok so here goes nothin
yo trawler wassup man how they hangin
so heres me tellin you i hear tell theys free food up fer grabs here and im tellin ya im in. dont be fooled by my cool name cuz i aint one a them hoity toity english chicks – i am all yank and dern proud of it. and not one of them trashy yanks neither – ima well bred broad and way international *wipes nose on sleeve all posh like* Parleze sproiken se doitch (see – spanish even).
ok and i aint gonna say much about my competition (what sad lot there is) cuz i aint that rude but i hear tell one of em is such a tramp that her crabs have morphed into saber-toothed crotch crickets and no one in their cotton-pickin mind gonna put their todger in that huh *elbows you hard in the ribs*
so i figure you are ok since ya never scrolled a slag off paragraph about me 500 times in the room and you never asl-ed me in pm. come to think of it, you never responded to any of my pms but i think you must fall asleep a lot cuz you leave the room all quiet like right after i ding ya.
ok so what else. oh yeah. testimonials. i dont really have a favorite but the book of matthew and the rest of them gospel boys from the new testimonial aint too bad. its hard to remember so good cuz they wont let me in the church no more and i dont got any of them books.
yeah so more good stuff about me – i usually use silverware, i try to use a kleenex when i am diggin out any deep boogers and i pretty much remember to spray after stinkin up the loo and if that aint a lady well then mister you tell me what is!
so since you will probably be pickin me as yer date, i will start looking now for a pair of undies with not too many holes and most the elastic left in case you get lucky *winks and nudges you hard in the ribs again*. yeah so whatever. call me or somethin and let me know where and when. or i can just meet you at the pump & munch gas station. thats where i usually wait for dates.
ok bye fer now,
taffygirl (call me taffs for short or taffeta for long but just dont call me late for our date *elbows you in the ribs one more time*)
@jen_jen wrote:
Dear Mr Teapot,
I do hope that you will keep this correspondence private and I will be brief (there’s a first time for everything!). Could you please let Mr Trawler believe that you’re after him for a little while longer? It won’t take much longer for me to entice him into my cabin and I have such delights planned for him.
Your assistance in this matter would be very much appreciated and I will of course repay it in full. I make a mean spag bol, just-a like-a mamma used to make-a.
Please pass my fondest regards to your lovely wife.
Yours,
JenDear Miss Jen Jen
Let it never be said that I am a hard hearted man. This Mr Trawler deserves to be your number 18! I shall endeavour to facilitate his speedy entrapment.. oops sorry I meant romantic liaison
I must say though that Valentine ’s Day is not my favourite day of the year as it holds unpleasant memories from my old Chicago days and a certain Mr Capone… but I digress that’s another story.
Let your Cupids arrows fly Miss jen jen, your secret is safe with me…. I was always a sucker for a good spag bol just-a like-a mama used to make-a…..not that Mrs teapot can’t cook you understand, she can cook…. a bit. :oops:
Yous understandingly and Tanti Saluti da Corleone!
Don Corleone Teapot xx
@kent f OBE wrote:
Dear Lusty Caller
I too have been left on the shelf and once again be on my own on Valentines Day.
You sound like the kind of man I would love to share the rest of my life with, my mum promises she won’t interfere with any more of my relationships and has assured me I will be allowed to go out on a date without her in tow. Her legs aren’t what they used to be.
I am 49 years old, 5’6, have jet black hair which looks so natural after a colour treatment. My hobbies are signing up for every dating site on the internet possible, volounteering in the hospital shop, which I do once a week for an hour after my weekly appointments. My psychiatrist said it would help me come out of my shell and give me a new confidence. I never thought sellling a quarter of mint humbugs could be so much fun.
Mummys really proud of me.I am quite shy and don’t know what else to say, but if you decide you would like a few more letters before we actually meet, I will ask one of my 196 best friends from an internet site I use when mummys asleep called Just Chat. The people in there are so caring and understanding and often say they wish I would find a bloke so I can stop going into the room.
Bye for now
Kenty
Dear Mademoiselle Kenty
Many thanks for your letter.
After reading your letter I’m in a rather confused state of affairs. Let me explain my quandary for your elucidation:
1. ‘I am 49 years old, 5’6, have jet black hair which looks so natural after a colour treatment.’ This would peak the interest of any red blooded man.
2. ‘You sound like the kind of man I would love to share THE REST OF MY LIFE with..’ This would encourage most red blooded man with an aversion to marriage to run in the opposite direction – and keep on running.
I’m afraid I lost faith in internet dating ever since the unfortunate tryst with an ample-bosomed ladyboy with a handlebar moustache. I’m completely to blame, I should have headed the advice of my sage dear old mom when she said, ‘All that glitters isn’t gold and all that flutters might have a certain something to, er, unfold.’
I can see the joy to be had from selling a quarter of humbugs, I like your altruistic nature, I even find your closeness to your mom extremely endearing (the correspondences I have recently received have made me aware that some people seem to lose their parents – and other family members – at an alarming rate). In short, you seem adorable. Perhaps we should move our relationship forward and skip to the next the stage? I find you so compelling I feel that I’m willing to travel anywhere to meet you.
Kind regards,
Rusty Trawler
P.S: Oh dear! There is a small proviso to the statement that I’m willing to travel anywhere to meet you. I’m sure you’re aware that no self-respecting gentleman would be willing to travel to Dartford, but the chances of this being a problem are as likely as finding a male suitor on JC I would have thought.
@peanut wrote:
Dear Rusty Trawler
As a nurse (as in the naughty dress up variety) I happen to know it’s very bad for a man to be without a date on valentines day. All that sexual energy and no release. Many a man has died from much less, I can tell you. And as a Good Samaritan I feel that it’s my duty to take pity on you, so please find my CV and a video (for educational purposes only) attached.
It might be a good idea to close the curtains whilst watching the video and mute the sound if you have thin walls.
Here are some testimonials for the attached film:
‘Yes! Yes! Yes!… I’ll have what’s she’s having.’ – Heat magazine
‘Bleeding hell! How did that one get a PG classification’ – Barry Norman
‘You don’t get many of those to the dozen’ – Empire magazine
‘Sorry I can’t review this film, I went blind after the first five minutes’ – The Sun
I look forward to hearing from you
Best wishes,
Snix
Dear Snix,
Please accept my apologies for taking so long to reply to you, but I’ve recently renewed an interest in films that was only ever invigorated by a certain Charlie Chaplin film. Tell me have you seen The Lady and The Tramp? If so, hasn’t audio-visual technology moved on remarkably since the days of silent films? However, I’m not sure that it was a good idea that the auteur of the film you enclosed chose to utilise the latest advances technology, it’s quite alarming when you witness an ample bosom shooting out of your TV screen in 3D.
You said the film was for educational purposes, I’m extremely keen to augment my erudition, tell me is that film part of a series? If so please send part two by courier or carrier pigeon at your earliest convenience.
Regards
Rusty Trawler
P.S: Do you happen to know if the young starlet in the film has a fan club?
Dear Crusty Brawler,
I may be interested in your offer of chocolate this February (being innocent, I am not sure what “jiggy” involves).
My qualifications and experience are as follows:
Qualifications
* expert with a notebook and pencil (which I am fond of licking)
* ample curvaceous assets
Experience
* I turn up naked and bring beer
I look forward to hearing from you in the near future.
Kind regards,
Nicey :)
PS Did I mention my pair of large jugs?Dear Mr Trawler,
Dear Jen,
I’m eternally relieved that my recent appeal has to some extent assuaged your doubts and I cannot disguise the blithe smile upon my countenance as I read that your assets remain ample in proportion.
You will, indeed, have noticed that I now feel sufficiently enabled to dispense with the formality of my previous salutations despite your not having crossed the threshold of the rather well-appointed chamber in my meagre domicile where the magic happens.
Oh, but I’m so overcome with sincere gratitude that we have successfully traversed our little contretemps that I am now exhibiting profound difficulty in constructing a lucid sentence. Please allow me to revisit the last paragraph – as you have probably invoked the idyllic image of a bedroom furnished with all the modern comforts that befits a lady of your social standing. Well, this is true, and I can assure that you would not be disappointed. But you will also encounter accoutrements, appendages, attachments and mechanical devices a plenty to behold the interest of a maiden as artful as I imagine you to be.
Please remain assured that there is no reason why you should feel coy about begging. My erotic antics often affect a state of supplication in ladies whom have grown accustomed to bigger and better things. I would gladly divulge more detail, but we still need to address the small matter of the non-disclosure agreement.
And now to not so small matter of the frantic peril our entwined lives are currently experiencing. I have to confess that my baser instincts motivate me to flee to my country pile but then I have scant faith in my man servant’s ability to singlehandedly stave off the Yorkshire mafia, especially since he seems to be displaying an undue interest in my correspondence at the cost of his official duties.
I’m not entirely sure I can call upon my JC brethren to safeguard my paltry life at this juncture. It’s a complicated tale that demands yet another abject admission as I have been somewhat economical with the truth in my last confession. I’m afraid I enhanced the details of our relationship far greater than I had previously intimated.
I drew diagrams! Diagrams so detailed of how I imagined our physical embrace look that any observing worldly foul-mouthed sailor would quick march to his next confessional. I’m afraid my artistic licence permitted the depiction of images so risqué that one would have a devil of a time identifying where my body began and yours finished.
My JC compatriots have failed to convince the fair ladies of JC to meet with them sans escorts despite how heartfelt and sincere their pleas. Apparently, just like you, the ladies of JC have also encountered the duplicitous charm of JC fellows. As you will know, jealousy is an injudicious master and in my attempt to regale them with apocryphal tales of our encounters (I do believe on one occasion we were so vigorous in our endeavours that the energy was successfully harnessed to ensure the smooth running of a small hospital in the event of a power outage) that they now covet you for themselves and quite frankly harbour ill-thoughts about my safety.
Would it be too bold for me to suggest that the nubile wenches you mentioned might be rallied to aid my current distress? The ETA to your lair may take a little longer than originally planned but I’m convinced I will eventually arrive with a smile on my face.With sincere regards,
Rusty Trawler
P.S: I fear the aforementioned sketches may have done your ample assets a disservice.
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