Me: Feeling good today, very confident!

Me: You’re right, my Mindful Meditation session did go really well!

Me: Meditated the shit out of it! I was fucking Deerpark Chopra!

Me: No, I think it is Deerpark.

Me: Really?

Me: Deepak? That doesn’t sound like a name at all, more like a company that makes boxes or something.

Me: I don’t believe you.

Me: I’m going to look it up.

Me: Okay.

Me: Yes.

Me: I guess it is kind of amusing that I could get the last name right but still butcher the first name in such a “child-like” and “ challenged” way.

Me: I’m still going to call him Deerpark though.

Me: No, not stubborn, whimsical and playful. Like an otter.

Me: I also went to my first lymphatic massage session!

Me: Well, they tap your face.

Me: And yeah, that drains your lymph glands. Yes, by tapping.

Me: $200

Me: No, they didn’t wear diamond-encrusted gloves while doing the tapping.

Me: No, it wasn’t a topless lymphatic massage, either.

Me: Well, the happy ending is that my lymph glands are draining!

Me: I thought your insurance covered it!

Me: Fuck.

Me: Well, there are only 7 more sessions.

Me: Look, having drained lymph glands is important.

Me: At least as important as your “Power Skating” classes with Pierre. I mean, 3 times a week??

Me: I don’t trust Pierre, don’t believe he played in the NHL.

Me: Also don’t like the way you laugh around him.

Me: No, of course I trust you, my love.

Me: I’m at the Dark Horse Café now.

Me: Decaffeinated green tea, gangster style.

Me: Nowhere to sit in here.

Me: Woman says she’s holding last chair for a friend.

Me: Says she will be there in 5 minutes.

Me: Dazzling smile. Entirely distracting. Have forgotten why I was talking to her.

Me: I wish she did lymphatic massage.

Me: I’ll send you a picture.

Me: Really? Creepy and inappropriate?

Me:  On every level? Really?

Me: You’re really weird, you know that?

Me: Okay, 12 minutes have passed now and her friend still hasn’t shown up. I’m going to say something.

Me: I wonder if she’s a model?

Me: Okay, it’s been over 20 minutes! I’m going to give her a piece of my mind!

Me: Her beauty doesn’t entitle her to anything!

Me: You’re right, she is exactly like that Leprechaun guy on the TTC!!

Me: Only radiant and if the Leprechaun were made out of sunlight.

Me: Like Pierre, you said he’s made of light, and what did you say, “thigh muscles,” didn’t you?

Me: I WILL SAY SOMETHING!

Me: I AM NOT A SLAVE TO BEAUTY!

Me: (Except yours, my love)

Me: Ok, here I go.

Me: Losing my resolve. Think it’s melting. Standing with tea is fine.

Me: Hemingway wrote standing up.

Me: Her laptop bag deserves seat in crowded coffee shop.

Me: Laptop bag like a holy relic.

Me: Friend just floated in like a beautiful perfume.

Me: Think Pierre emerging from a spray of ice chips.

Me: Such beauty, should be a cover charge here.

Me: They are now talking together, as angels do.

Me: All is sunlight.

I do.

In fact, like the great dissolute songstress Whitney Houston, I believe that children are our future. If we treat them well, they will shovel the driveway, or something. They will be like little slaves, which is why I want one. However, unless some sort of dodgy “miracle” takes place, I won’t be having any little slaves in the future. You see, after taking an ill-advised vacation in Cuba, I was rendered, “un hombre con un conteo de espermatozoides diminuto, pequeño,” and without the intervention of science, my wife and I will never be able to have the little slaves we’ve always dreamed about.

Now, we’re poor people, and the only way we can afford the expenses of tinkering with God’s will, is to sell our car, a stunning sex machine of a Honda Accord Sedan LX. This little dreamboat was born in 2006 and has the gentlest 137,700 Km on it you can imagine. It’s like all it’s kilometerage was acquired under doctor’s supervision. It’s sapphire blue, the same colour you always wanted to animate your lover’s eyes. It has a perfect body. A calendar body. You will want to marry this car and make little baby cars with it.

All we are asking is $9,500.That’s practically nothing when it comes to cars that can speak in a British accent.

And remember, by buying this car you are investing in the future, for we will immediately turn the money over to doctors so that they might create for us a test tube slave, I mean baby. Our child might save the life of your child. Think about this.

This car, this beautiful, never-been-smoked-in and obedient car, is an automatic. It has never been crashed into anything, and it has an impressive engine that boasts all the things you want in an engine. The car is goddamn perfect– it was even blessed by a priest! And if you like to party, well, you should know that the stereo has a CD player, 120 watt speakers, power windows and locks, a folding rear seat back and an air conditioner that is so effective, so good at it’s job, that you will want to get close to somebody just to warm up.

Did I mention that the car has 4-wheel ABS, grey fabric interior, has passed all drug tests and is E-tested and certified? I meant to. I also want you to know that beautiful French actress Marion Cottilard rode in this car. She smelled like pumpkin and vanilla.

And that it’s only $9,500.

Goddamn, this is the deal of a lifetime!

Buy our car, the future depends on it!

Reply to: bwgbv-3107894753@sale.craigslist.org