Dear Time Vampires,
Thank you for your rescent correspondence, in which you have expressed an interest, nay, concern that my penis may not be quite as long and hard as my lady friends might perhaps prefer. Your suggestion that I “make [my] pecker glorious!” (a suggestion you made in the interest of “carnal victories!”) did not fall on deaf ears. That being said, while I appreciate your continued engrossment in the size of my sexual organs, your concern is unwarranted.
Similarly, I do not gamble. I never have done. Alright, technically that’s a lie – when I was 12 I put a £1 coin into a fruit machine in a pub, but I didn’t win anything and the experience left me dispondant towards the notion of gambling. It’s unlikely, then, that I will be visiting any one of the online casinos you have recommended to me over the last six years.
Finally, I must stress to you that I am not Russian and do not presently live in a house with a Septic Tank, so I must politely decline your cleaning fluid.
With regards,
Ben Paddon