Before.
After.
An April Fool’s ode to auntie Mandy:
In my callous youth, when I showed interest you thought I wasn’t a good choice compared to the other Adonises in your life then.
Well, one practically raped you, the other one made you pregnant, the third one you actually married, but he battered you black and blue and you had to take a court order out against him.
And the rest – one killed himself, one’s in jail for criminal breach of trust and the last one turned out to be a gay.
Some Adonises, huh?
And now you try to come on to me.
Not very good for my ego, considering the kind of men you’ve had in your life so far.
Not exactly pussy wetters are they?
Though they’ve managed to get you enthralled.
Anyway, you are some 30 years too late, sweetheart.
I’m happily married to a wonderful woman, who though no longer in the first flush of youth still has a body that will put any woman 20 years younger than her to shame.
I know for a fact, it will put yours to shame for sure.
What’s more, she’s kind, spiritual, self-sacrificing, long-suffering, not self-centered, not calculative and definitely not petty.
And she doesn’t spend all her time trying to prove that she’s smarter than me.
And she hasn’t got this irritating habit of using something I’ve said and have forgotten a long time ago to get back at me.
And look at you, one time “Miss Sexy” – the woman every man wanted and every woman tried to be.
You were every boy’s wet dream once.
You had a pretty face and great legs then, but look at you now.
That fat over-used gorilla ass of yours would make Gozilla run away, scared shitless.
I kid you not.
Cows and hippos don’t interest me, sorry.
Besides, I’m not into used goods.
Especially very used goods.
As in, overly used goods.
And I hate ugly udders with gigantic black areolae swinging in my face. (I’m not excited by Montgomery glands.)
Sweetheart, shall I get you a huge motorized dildo for your birthday?
I heard one called “The Rabbit” can be rather satisfying.
Because you have to forget about me k?
Now go play with yourself, I beg you.
Or do one of those oh so fucking boring auntie things, like baking cakes or cooking Peranakan.
Stupefying boredom.
And get out of my sight, I beseech you.
Forever.
Am I mean?
Yes.
They call me “Dr Vile.”