Spring Break
Girl, Make Me Your Classcard Man
Issue date: 2/22/05 Section: Humor
Girl, if you will let me be the man on your classcard, I will fill your days with ecstasy and your nights with still more ecstasy.
I will take you to the Spangler Food Court and I will buy you whatever you desire. Would you like a snack, my queen? Then I will buy you yogurt with fruit on the bottom. Rest those fine arms of yours-I will stir up the fruit for you until it is evenly distributed throughout the container. I will not disappoint you by leaving a big mass of sugary fruit on the bottom.
Would you also like a cup of coffee? Let me get it for you. No, my lady, I will not allow you to put those precious lips on styrofoam. Does a princess wear a burlap brassiere? No. At least I do not believe so. Either way, I will pour you a cup of coffee, and you will sip it out of the finest hand-crafted medieval goblet that was available at the Scranton Renaissance Fair last year.
What's that you say? You need to make your way to class? No, don't walk all that way, girl. Let me ease your burden. I will build a wagon for us to ride in. The wagon will be lined with exotic fabrics such as silk and felt. I will also genetically engineer a new race of mountain goats, bottle-feeding them from birth and treating them with the utmost respect so that they will produce the world's most exquisite cashmere, which I will use to knit you a blanket so that you do not catch a chill while you ride in the wagon.
The wagon will also have a cupholder.
Who will pull the wagon, my beauty? I am glad you ask. We will be pulled by a team of Egyptian hairless cats and their veterinarians. While we ride, I will feed you grapes, carefully removing their skins beforehand so that you do not chip one of your beautiful pearly choppers.
Lean in close, girl. Let me whisper sexy thoughts to you in French. What's that? Oh, you speak French, too? Yes, in fact, I was counting to 10, my darling. Am I making you hot?
While you are in class, I will lay at your side and wash your delicate feet using the feathers of endangered birds and a bottle of Prell. Then, I will dry off your feet with my chest hair. Just relax, woman, and let me do the work.
I will take you to the Spangler Food Court and I will buy you whatever you desire. Would you like a snack, my queen? Then I will buy you yogurt with fruit on the bottom. Rest those fine arms of yours-I will stir up the fruit for you until it is evenly distributed throughout the container. I will not disappoint you by leaving a big mass of sugary fruit on the bottom.
Would you also like a cup of coffee? Let me get it for you. No, my lady, I will not allow you to put those precious lips on styrofoam. Does a princess wear a burlap brassiere? No. At least I do not believe so. Either way, I will pour you a cup of coffee, and you will sip it out of the finest hand-crafted medieval goblet that was available at the Scranton Renaissance Fair last year.
What's that you say? You need to make your way to class? No, don't walk all that way, girl. Let me ease your burden. I will build a wagon for us to ride in. The wagon will be lined with exotic fabrics such as silk and felt. I will also genetically engineer a new race of mountain goats, bottle-feeding them from birth and treating them with the utmost respect so that they will produce the world's most exquisite cashmere, which I will use to knit you a blanket so that you do not catch a chill while you ride in the wagon.
The wagon will also have a cupholder.
Who will pull the wagon, my beauty? I am glad you ask. We will be pulled by a team of Egyptian hairless cats and their veterinarians. While we ride, I will feed you grapes, carefully removing their skins beforehand so that you do not chip one of your beautiful pearly choppers.
Lean in close, girl. Let me whisper sexy thoughts to you in French. What's that? Oh, you speak French, too? Yes, in fact, I was counting to 10, my darling. Am I making you hot?
While you are in class, I will lay at your side and wash your delicate feet using the feathers of endangered birds and a bottle of Prell. Then, I will dry off your feet with my chest hair. Just relax, woman, and let me do the work.
