Love On The Rocks
Dear Norwegian Foreign Exchange Student, I’m very happy that you found my son to be a “Hella sexy muthah fuckah.” However, I am a bit concerned about the fact that you mention his real name and location on your MySpace, along with that picture of the two of you. And no, sweetheart, he doesn’t look like Ashton Kutcher. And I hate to break it to you but, you don’t resemble a “younger, sexier Demi” either.
I understand meeting him, your “dream man” on the slopes was the “best moment of” your “fuckin’ life” however, a long distance relationship will never work. You are already back in Norway and our telephone plan doesn’t cover the cost of calls to you.
Yes, I realize you will be making a “come back that will knock off his socks” only, my son won’t be wearing socks. Ever. Again. Yeah, and stay away from him you foreign exchange
slut student. I don’t care how “hot” your accent is, especially when you say his name, and yes, I know he loves that. He has told me about a million times how “hot” your accent is while saying, “Lane or anything else.” And yes, you may actually be the very first girl he has actually listened to.
My son isn’t the brightest crayon in the box. He was blinded by your accent. Besides, he is a big fat liar. You wouldn’t want to fall in love with a liar, would you? He has never been to Europe, not one part. I bet he couldn’t even find it on a map. And when he said he goes skiing all of the time, well, that also was a lie. Yes, he has been to Denver, Vail and other skiing communities, but only long enough to use a restroom at a truck stop.
So, anyhow, do your parents own stock in Norway Bell? Because you call way more often than his local friends. I hope they
beat your ass take your phone privileges away when they get the bill.
Signed, Lane’s Mom