At the young vital age of 19 I can hardly get a qualified penis (to whom I refer to as men ) to glance in my direction. Sure, I take into consideration why this could be and why has humanity failed me so, but of course, to no avail. In my defense, God enjoys my lonely humor.

Anywhose, this victorian maiden who goes by the name of Wook Kondour, is 107 years of age and on the prowl for a young and vivacious whipper snapper to come and do her bidding. Her husband of the moment, who is by the way Husband number 22 is a drug addict and currently in rehabilitation. Seemingly his drug addiction has left him with the perception of antiquity as beauty and has obliged to their breath taking romance.

Now most woman would be fearful of a husband with a drug addiction, she however is more concerned with being alone. She so desperately fears that after his time of recollection he'll no longer be jolted by that of crack or heroine and will see her for what she is and . . .skedaddle. Her lonliness has become overwhelming and as a precaution she is for lack of a better crazy " giving it up all crazy" to the next willing and able man. Uh. Any takers!?

Now i'll de damned. NEED I PUT IN BIG LETTERS ON A BILLBOARD "19 VITAL Woman In Waiting?" I mean old dirt bags that ovulate dust bunnies and sweats debris get more play than I do. That was pretty inconsiderate but this has alerted me of how much of a crisis i'm actually in.

SMH.