:: All a-flutter ::

Sunday, February 08, 2004

I had a heart murmur once. It was dismissed as innocent, but it scared the pants off me (and the ladies in the crowd can vouch for me on this: my pants don't come off easily [wait... what?]).

When you give your heart to somebody this Saturday, please realize that it's a ticking time bomb, and there's quite literally a chance you could drop dead any second, even if you're young and healthy.

That's where I come in.

Call me a grief counselor. Your loved one will naturally be quite shocked at this sudden loss, and you need to plan accordingly. For a fee, I will ease that pain the only way I know how: with the healing power of intimate companionship.

"But hey," you're thinking, "everyone has life insurance anyway. Why would I want to pay extra for some schmo to consort with my lover/partner/spouse/concubine?" Well, why do people pay extra for air-conditioning in their automobiles? It's a matter of comfort: it feels really good. Great, actually. Doesn't your loved one deserve the best mourning money can buy? And shouldn't it know how to whip up an omelet afterwards?

You're in good hands with morland. Hands with years of masseur training and maybe even some scented body oils. Hands that will do your memory justice.

If the price is right (I'm thinking high six figures here, but talk to me about it - I want to make this work, so there might be some wiggle room), I'll accept applications for same-sex or over-50 bereaved (but not both - unless we're talking seven figures).

This is a win-win proposition here. Think about it. There's more than one way to be an organ donor.

POSTSCRIPT

Sunday night idle hands + link to SADS + heart candy image generator + impending Valentine's Day = most offensive entry I've ever posted. If you know someone affected by SADS, my heart goes out to... whoops!

No, really, I'm kidding. We all know my heart is spoken for.

Posted by morland @ 11:55 PM

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