Pretentious desperado humiliates self

A friend of mine sent me this e-mail today. It was addressed to his friend who sent it to him. She has spoken to this strange American fella a few times online and shown him a picture of herself. Utmost humiliation :happy:.

Quote:

---

Dearest Kumiko,

I dreamed about you last night; here is what I remember.


...It was a warm summer day in the French countryside of Burgundy . I
had just finished pouring you another glass of wine, before repacking
the wicker basket we had carried up from the river. It was a perfect day
for a picnic as we sat above the peaceful valley, watching the crew
return from the village with fresh food and many bottles of wine
strapped to the bicycles they road. The Captain had stopped our river
barge for supplies early in the morning so we decided to use the time to
explore the hilly vineyards and enjoy a quiet meal. I had asked the
boat's chief for a picnic basket the night before, happy when he offered
a menu of cold roasted duck, potato salad and fresh baked bread from the
village.



As you sat there, following me with your eyes, I fell more deeply in
love with you. I cut fresh slices of peach and pear and set them on a
plate beside you. I gazed at you shyly, trying not to stare, admiring
the graceful curve of your neck and shoulders. You looked so very
elegant in your blue summer dress, your legs slightly tan and bare. I
took a blanket from my rucksack and spread it neatly across the fragrant
grass. It was cool beneath the trees, a soft breeze rising from the
river, carrying the scent of flowers and ripening grapes. I took the
bottle of cold wine and knelt down on the colorful blanket.



"Come, lay down Kumiko," I suggested. "We can rest before returning to
the river barge, we won't sail again for a few hours." I rolled the
remaining blanket into a pillow and placed it beneath your head while
you watched clouds float across the sky. I moved closer to you, gazing
into your beautiful eyes. We were alone in a private place. I wanted you
so very much now, noticing you soft sweet breath as I lowered my head to
kiss you; shyly at first, very gently but soon with more passion. I lay
down to embrace you, holding your body close to me while we kissed,
breathing the same sweet air.



After time passed, I let my head rest upon your outstretched arm,
looking into your alluring brown eyes. "Rest now," I said softly, as you
began to close your eyes. "Rest and dream a wonderful dream, a dream
where you are content and happy." I slowly moved my head so that my lips
softly touched your cheek as you slept. I lay there quietly caressing
you, gazing at you, keeping you safe and warm. "I want you so very
much," I whispered softly, "I hope the day will come that I never leave
you..."



With affection,

David

---

First of all, grass doesn't smell unless it's cut, and I don't think somehow some farmer will have been up to the top of a valley to cut some grass for this idiot to woo his imaginary wife on. Secondly, it's not the 18th century and you're not in a Jane Austen Novel, fucko. Thirdly, have you ever actually been to France or just seen a picture of it on a garlic packet you got from the 'store'?

:sick:

:glag:
She sent the pic, after she read that, eh? He smells of epic smarminess.
Poor, gal.

-bd

Nooo, she spoke to him online a few times and then sent him a pic, and this is how he repayed her. I reckon he's one of those weirdos who like you so much they want to eat you :unsure:.

I really find it hard to believe he really remembers ALL that from his dream.. I'll bet 90% of it is afterthought :lol:

"I hope the day will come that I never leave you" :blink:


This is a nonsense.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by tralalala

I really find it hard to believe he really remembers ALL that from his dream.. I'll bet 90% of it is afterthought :lol:

---

agreed :D. very good chance that he could be one of them weirdos we keep hearing about but there's only one way of finding out for sure :happy:

The bit he probably actually dreamt was the bit where he tried to feel her boobs and she slapped him :dry:

^ :yes:

I'm pretty sure people don't usually smell stuff in dreams. Also, him remembering stuff he's done the night before in the dream-world sounds mental.

Otherwise it's just too fucking detailed. In a proper dream stuff ought to have kept rearranging itself, or the whole thing would have turned into something else halfway through.

The only thing that does make sense, is the nonsense barbie quoted, 'cos that's the sort of thing that would sound orsum in a dream, probably. It also sounds kind of ominous, maybe she should be worried he's coming to find her.

I reckon he found his poetic license, then exploited the fuck out of it.

At any rate he sounds like a presumptuous dick, or something.

Either that or he's a lonely, nerdy teenager on a flight of fancy.

What should she reply? That's the question.

I'm guess the whole bit was plagiarized.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Squeamous

A friend of mine sent me this e-mail today. It was addressed to his friend who sent it to him. She has spoken to this strange American fella a few times online and shown him a picture of herself. Utmost humiliation :happy:.

Quote:

---

Dearest Kumiko,

I dreamed about you last night; here is what I remember.


...It was a warm summer day in the French countryside of Burgundy . I
had just finished pouring you another glass of wine, before repacking
the wicker basket we had carried up from the river. It was a perfect day
for a picnic as we sat above the peaceful valley, watching the crew
return from the village with fresh food and many bottles of wine
strapped to the bicycles they road. The Captain had stopped our river
barge for supplies early in the morning so we decided to use the time to
explore the hilly vineyards and enjoy a quiet meal. I had asked the
boat's chief for a picnic basket the night before, happy when he offered
a menu of cold roasted duck, potato salad and fresh baked bread from the
village.



As you sat there, following me with your eyes, I fell more deeply in
love with you. I cut fresh slices of peach and pear and set them on a
plate beside you. I gazed at you shyly, trying not to stare, admiring
the graceful curve of your neck and shoulders. You looked so very
elegant in your blue summer dress, your legs slightly tan and bare. I
took a blanket from my rucksack and spread it neatly across the fragrant
grass. It was cool beneath the trees, a soft breeze rising from the
river, carrying the scent of flowers and ripening grapes. I took the
bottle of cold wine and knelt down on the colorful blanket.



"Come, lay down Kumiko," I suggested. "We can rest before returning to
the river barge, we won't sail again for a few hours." I rolled the
remaining blanket into a pillow and placed it beneath your head while
you watched clouds float across the sky. I moved closer to you, gazing
into your beautiful eyes. We were alone in a private place. I wanted you
so very much now, noticing you soft sweet breath as I lowered my head to
kiss you; shyly at first, very gently but soon with more passion. I lay
down to embrace you, holding your body close to me while we kissed,
breathing the same sweet air.



After time passed, I let my head rest upon your outstretched arm,
looking into your alluring brown eyes. "Rest now," I said softly, as you
began to close your eyes. "Rest and dream a wonderful dream, a dream
where you are content and happy." I slowly moved my head so that my lips
softly touched your cheek as you slept. I lay there quietly caressing
you, gazing at you, keeping you safe and warm. "I want you so very
much," I whispered softly, "I hope the day will come that I never leave
you..."



With affection,

David

---

First of all, grass doesn't smell unless it's cut, and I don't think somehow some farmer will have been up to the top of a valley to cut some grass for this idiot to woo his imaginary wife on. Secondly, it's not the 18th century and you're not in a Jane Austen Novel, fucko. Thirdly, have you ever actually been to France or just seen a picture of it on a garlic packet you got from the 'store'?

:sick:

---

cold roasted duck, potato salad and fresh baked bread? :blink: he must be mental.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Snee

I'm pretty sure people don't usually smell stuff in dreams. Also, him remembering stuff he's done the night before in the dream-world sounds mental.

Otherwise it's just too fucking detailed. In a proper dream stuff ought to have kept rearranging itself, or the whole thing would have turned into something else halfway through.

The only thing that does make sense, is the nonsense barbie quoted, 'cos that's the sort of thing that would sound orsum in a dream, probably. It also sounds kind of ominous, maybe she should be worried he's coming to find her.

I reckon he found his poetic license, then exploited the fuck out of it.

At any rate he sounds like a presumptuous dick, or something.

Either that or he's a lonely, nerdy teenager on a flight of fancy.

---

I think she should respond with 'fuck off' personally :dry:.

I reckon he's been sat there wanking furiously over pics of sweet innocent oriental girls for years and he knows this may be his only chance.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Alien5

cold roasted duck, potato salad and fresh baked bread? :blink: he must be mental.

---

I know, indigestion O-rama.

I like nice concise answer like that, but maybe she should try and get into the spirit of things and go with a:

"Dearest masturbateur


Sod off"

Hee hee! :yup: I like that!