Thursday, January 17, 2013


[Actual story ripped from the net. . .well, maybe]

"Hi. My name is Jennifer, and I was royally duped.

Yes, I know it is hard to believe, but if Manti Te’o, and the nation’s sportswriter fraternity---not to mention Heisman voters and just about the entire college football fan base---can be so thoroughly mistaken about the death/nondeath of an imaginary college co-ed girlfriend, then don’t blame me for falling for this guy.
He was just too dreamy. He said he commanded an internet empire from his home office, directed the activities of a host of employees, all the way up to one with a doctorate in physics, and scuba dove and surfed on weekends. Wow, that really got me going. I love smart, athletic, hairy men. I believed he was the cat’s meow. And I couldn’t believe he loved movies so much. . .even Charlton Heston extravaganzas. Oh my. He said he was also a talented humor writer, who graciously gave his jokes for a local comic, who was devoted to him, and that he provided material for Big Bang. It made me ache for other big bangs. He said he lived in a huge home, now practically empty after maneuvering two of the roommates out into the streets. I was certain he was inviting me to move in. I was so excited about seeing New York. It is kind of lonely in the Iowa cornfields. I know he was an older guy, but he said he had an absolutely gorgeous silky head of hair (he even sent me a sampling of long blondish manfur, and it was sooooo soft). He said he was of Persian background (and yes, I know that means Iranian), but he was a man of the world, with a condo in Miami and regular trips to Switzerland to check in with the scholars at CERN. He said I could come to Europe with him any time. He said his Indian-American maid/cook spoiled him with sumptuous exotic meals. He said she even sometimes served as his personal masseuse. He said Lebron was a personal friend, though he secretly loved the Lakers. I was skeptical, but I was assured by his friend Jim that he was on the up-and-up. He said my love was like catnip to him, that he would love to sharpen his claws on my body (oh, how romantic), and that he was purrrfect for me (it was so cute how he typed that). He said he had discovered a formylation reaction used in organic chemistry, call the Duff reaction, and that he would be glad to show me how it worked, if I came up to his lab! Oh my. Most guys only offered their etchings. . .

Much to my chagrin, I discovered he was as imaginary as Elmyra Duff of Tiny Toons. I should have known this was a cartoon fantasy! My heart was broken by Duffy Dean. . .but I still love him. Ohhhh, Duffy, Duffy. . . ."

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