Brief flash wherein a man with an inability to flirt manages to unsuccessfully flirt. |
HAND PORES She sent me a picture of her nippy nipples along with a colon and a closing parenthetical mark. I responded in turn with a micro-shot of my hand, entitled "Hand Pores," along with a not-so-brief forward detailing how "Hand Pores" represents in its composition the plight of all women faced with the daily hardships that one can expect whilst living under Sharia law. She responded with "Ha!" and I asked her, in so many words, like, what's so funny? "Hand Pores" is expected to make considerable waves and a noticeable splash in its probable upcoming debut in the Chelsea galleries. She responded with "Ha," followed by another "ha," and then a "haha," surely inferring that I was kidding, even though I never kid, even though I never josh nor joke, and that I was hardly to be expected to make either splashes or waves with "Hand Pores," although I most assuredly did. I sold "Hand Pores" for 2600 USD in an upscale Chelsea Gallery, during a feminist exhibit called "Vagina Teeth," wherein the centerpiece was a sepulchre containing a barbed wooden artifice that shackled a young and bleeding, naked and attractive woman (wearing a mask that resembled the snout of a full bore moose) to its frame, and I never talked to Ms. Nippy "HaHa" Nips again.
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