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"a tiny leaf being raped by the wind"



An Open Letter to Scarlett Page:
You have scarred me, Ms. Scarlett! I must say that several months ago I
predicted that this list would eventually, as part of an unassailable yet
healthy dialectical process, (d)evolve into soft core pornography, for
which tree'd tapes and cds would provide the groovy soundrack; but now I
have second thoughts. This fantasy is too close in content to the mental
processes my leather-bodiced first girlfriend, and too close in form to the
type of literature favored by my mother. Today I donned a pair of angel
wings and a long blonde wig and called my girlfriend "mom" during an
imtimate moment. Needless to say, my personal life has suffered immensely.
I had to put Fatback's "I Like Girls" on repeat for 6 hours until the
tale's baleful effects wore off.
As part of the therapy process, I thought of responding with a
plot-oriented fantasy; it takes place in the back seat of a '72 'Cuda and
climaxes before I can finish typing, so I don't see the point.

The Salamander