My apologies, but I must disengage from our relationship. My Laurel is withering in the canyon from your lack of attention. Without your spiritual enrichment to fertilize my canyon, I must find satisfaction elsewhere. I am moving to Vegas, perhaps Bald Tony’s Rhythmic Séance (BTRS) can bring forth the Genie in my bottle.
A regretful goodbye, your “little flower”.
Hey, I may not be the sharpest shaman in the sweat lodge, but I think your email is a tad suggestive. Sorry, but that was all just pillow talk, baby. You still have an open invitation to hit my contact button any time.
The Ghetto Shaman
P.S. Just not tonight, I’ll be masturbating to Christine O’Donnell ads