There’s porn…and then there’s shoe porn

Everyday, without fail, I open up my inbox to at least twenty of them…

Nope. Not Match.com winks. 

Believe it or not, I do actually get a shit pile of those daily that go directly in the trash.  Yeah, I don’t even look at them. Maybe I’m not cool enough to understand the concept, but I can’t imagine wanting to share a coffee with someone who winks at me. What would happen if we got into a fight? Would he poke me? 

(I once bit my sister so hard after she continued to poke me that I broke the skin.  She still whines about it today saying I scarred her for life.  A bit dramatic, no? Scarring someone for life is planting the seed in your blond hair/blue-eyed sister’s mind that perhaps she’s adopted because she obviously does not look like the rest of the hairy, dark-skinned clan. That’s something to hold a 30 year grudge over; not a few tiny tooth marks on you arm…Geez. Yes, poking. Not something I enjoy. That or close talkers. 

But let’s get back to the topic of my emails.  Porn is vomiting all over my inbox.  I can’t get away from it! The down side of a blog is no matter how much security you load on your site, bots will come in and take your email address.  Apparently mine has been sold to someone who pushes sites like “bang in your city” & “find hot sex now.”  It’s nothing more than an annoyance, but it’s been going on for months, and after seeing one too many mirror shots, I decided I would write an open letter to the manufacturers of these emails in the hopes that if I have to continue to receive, perhaps they might make them slightly more appealing.

Dear Chelsea Norton, Catilina Yardley, Jackie Kenton, Jazmin List, and the hundreds of other names you use for your porn spam:

While you all look like very nice girls with questionable piercings that unfortunately sent a half-naked pic to the wrong pornographer,  I do not want to be your “f*ckbuddy.”  You keep trying, but honestly, if I have to look at your giant 600CC implant with the blue vein running through the nipple one more time,  I might barf.  And another thing- come up with a better catch phrase. “Meow, Honey” is not a solid opening line. It’s something a girl with limited English would say in an Eastern European whore house. While your dream of “quickies in the park with no particular interest in what the guy looks like” sounds very diplomatic of you, I’m going to say anyone with a shred of standards might take a pass.  Of course, I could be wrong. I mean, this guy certainly didn’t have a problem with it. And he was bangin’ Liz Hurley at the time. Never say never. But enough about telling you what not to do, my intent is to tell you what you should do to have someone like me open your emails. Instead of boobs, I need to see this…

or this

or the ultimate shoegasm

Now you have my attention. Most women I know would sit and look at pictures of shoes for hours.  Boobs? Not so much, unless we were in the waiting room at our plastic surgeon picking out a new pair. So tomorrow when you want to ask me to add you to my favorites list or keep you warm on a cold night, instead, send me a discount code for designer shoes. That’s what gets me excited. 

Sincerely, 

Chastity Bono (he didn’t want the name anymore so I’m keeping it) 

-angela

Comments

comments

Tagged as: internet porn, shoes excite me, why i love shoes