I Think My Pet Rock's Doing Edibles

Sometimes, I just gotta wonder about what's going on behind my back when I leave two pet rocks -- Seymour and Element -- to their own devices.

The reason:  the latest edit that Seymour turned in of a rather simple scam email from an alleged Canadian business woman named Sherry Brydson.

Not being a user of cannabis myself, I am convinced that Seymour got ahold of some edibles before he penned this edit.

See what you thing, as we start with the original email:


Hello,

Good day to you, first let me introduce myself, I am Sherry Brydson, a Canadian business woman.I have been empowering the jobless and poor people for quite some time in Canada and this time I have choose to extend my charitable works to your location and I need you to help me distribute these help in your location, please kindly get back to me if interested so i can give you more details.

Sherry Brydson.  


Sherry didn't give Seymour much to work with, did she?  Well...here's where and why I suspect my pet rock is more stoned than usual:


From: B OR NOT TO B SHERRY <info@charity.org>
Sent: Wednesday, December 18, 2019 2:43 PM
To: info@charity.org <info@charity.org>
Subject: HARK WHAT THRU YON WINDER BREAKS...IT IS A ROCK...DAGNABBIT 

Hello,

Good day, sun stroke...good day, sun stroke...good day suuuun stroke...

I thought a little Beatles parody would start this off with a face plant.  A sun stroke might certainly do that.

Second, let me introgoose myself....woo....woooooo...wooooooHOOOOOOOO.  *Contented sigh*

A little self-gratify is always the way to start an email...for this template I am Sherry Brydson, a Canadian business woman.  I have been many things in many, many other templates, including a gender neutral non-binary yeast infection.  Being the genital-less equivalent of a department store mannequin does have certain perks....you get to wear really nice sh*t.  You just can't take a dump.

That can prove a problem when you're as full of it as I am...but I digress.

For the porpoises of this h'yar email, I have been empowering the jobless and poor people for quite some time in Canada -- even Scott the Dick, who Terrence and Philip are forever tormenting on the phone in the wee hours --  and this time I have choose to extend my charitable works to your location because Canadians have discovered my scheme and now Scott isn't the only Dick in Canada.

That said, I need you to help me distribute this patented *FAIL* of an email in your location.  The reason I need your help for that, I tried peddling this tripe on Uranus -- a place where it's hard to converse with the natives when they speak Azerbaijani in Klingonese with Mandarin subtexts, and their eyes are where their crotch orta be -- and it proved a too peculiar place, even for Adam full of Schiff.  On top of that, they accused me of two articles of Impearment and have sentenced me to 10 years of being the seat of the chair Whoopie Goldberg sits on at the set of The View....I'd rather have sex with an inflatable Bela Pelosi doll....I think.

I'm sure that as you're reading this you are saying to yourself "W...T...F and why didn't Mama warn me not come or breathe hard?".  I can't answer that, not having done your mama or having played her on TV.  The part required me to get done doggy-style by a Chihuahua, and there was simply no earthly way that could be done, what with my ass being so big that OSHA mandated a back-up alarm on me.

Somehow I think the gist of the email's original intent has been lost in the hyperbole and syntax error of the moment.  Never mind...just reply to me by saying "I'd sodomize a gopher hole if it'd win me a million dollars" in the header of your reply.  That will let me know that you are seriously in need of therapy.

Sherry Brydson.  

 

 

Seymour seemed genuinely surprised not to receive any answer to his edit -- "did NOT!!! PHFFFFFFFT!!!" -- but Element wasn't.  Element -- the other pet rock -- knows she needs no edibles to get stoned.