Lost Connections ad:
Hey. It's the guy from the 47th layer from the bottom, on the north east side. I had a few gray hairs in my brown bush, and a tat of tweety bird above it. Although I never saw your face, I had a heavenly hour where I got to look at and smell your butthole and instantly I felt we had a connection. You might have felt it when I playfully stuck my kazoo up there, and when you farted you successfully made it do that humming sound for almost a full second before the wax paper tore, and I heard you giggling. I used my so-called "brown ink" to write my number on the inside of your cheeks where it's less likely to get rubbed off, before remembering that if I don't even have a pen to write with then why the hell would any of us have a phone? Anyway if you get this message, meet me in the same spot after the sun goes down. I want to see what beautiful music we can make with your ass and this harmonica next.
Yours forever,
-Tweety Bush.
