To: Leonard McAllister
From: your penis, Leonard.
Subject: a little action?
Leonard, this is your penis. For God’s sake, man, you’re twenty-two years old. I have been more than patient with you, and would very much like it if you would set me up with a nice vagina in the near future.
P.S. Please reply ASAP.
To: my penis
From: Leonard
Subject: my bad.
Sorry, man GAA gimme a sec. Hey, you want something to drink? The fridge is fully stocked.
To: Leonard
From: penis
Subject: yes, thank you
Actually, Leonard, I would indeed like a drink. LIFE, Leonard: I want to drink of life’s sweet liquor, to know the intoxication which only that holy grail of tactile exploration can bring. Leonard, I want pussy.
To: penis
From: Leonard
Subject: I see
So … do you want something to drink or not?
To: Leonard
From: Enraged penis
Subject: I swear to God
Leonard, I would strangle you if I could.
To: my penis
From: me
Subject: back off, penis
Penis, please cut me some slack. It’s not like I neglect you on every front. Say, how about a little later we turn down the lights, put on some budget erotica, and see if we can’t put a smile on your face.
To: Clumsy McStrokus
From: chafed
Subject: vaginavaginavaginavagina
I am on the verge of explosion here. Please understand, Leonard, that regardless of any actual or professed dexterity, a tangible difference exists between your wretched ursine paws and the genuine article. Of all the places on your body to administer an Indian burn, God damn you, why here? Why me? Honestly, I don’t know how you expect me to work under these conditions. I’m calling OSHA in the morning.
To: penis
From: Leonard
Subject: I’m not scared
I would give my left nut to see you try and dial a phone.
To: Leonard
From: penis
Subject: not yours to give away, now is it?
Honestly, Leonard, everything is “me me me” with you and always has been. When will you learn to listen to the needs of other people? People like me?
To: penis
From: Leonard
Subject: moron
Penis, you are not a people.
To: Leonard
From: penis
Subject: goodbye
I’m leaving you, Leonard. By the time you read this, I will be long gone. Where I will go, frankly, I do not know. All I know is that, as much as your crotch will always be home to me, I cannot bear this life any longer. I need to be in a place where I can thrive, where vaginas flow like milk and honey, and until I find this place, I can never be truly happy. Wish me luck in this, Leonard, and I will wish you luck in finding a penis you can truly call your own.
