Para ti: Anonymous Blogger
Moments ago... Perhaps it was minutes ago…. Hours? I am sorry. My mind does not work right now. I will dig deep into this beautiful Latino body and try to tell you what happened to me.
Recently, I have been receiving comments in regards to my sexy mustache. It seems that some brave commenter, who comments anonymously, found issue with my thinking that my mustache is ever so sexy. It is part of what makes El Guapo, well, guapo.
Although I may put forth an image of utmost sexiness, if you prick me, I will bleed. My blood is red like yours, oh anonymous commenter. Si, maybe it’s sexier when it comes out of me.
Your blood drips out of your finger. See?
My blood, oh anonymous commenter, slowly trembles from the wound and drips, nay, dances to the floor.
Do you see the difference oh anonymous commenter?
Your words hurt me. What can I do for you to love me, anonymous commenter? Que puedo hacer?
There must be only one thing! I shall shave this sexy mustache that has caressed my face since the age of 11, declared to the world that am a Latino and yes, that is my Guatemalan hat on the bus, please give it back.
So, moments ago, with my madre, several aunts, mi abuelita, several cousins all of whom were crying at my feet, begging me to stop. Picture the scene anonymous commenter. Latin women wailing because of you. Do you see what you’ve done oh anonymous commenter? Do you see the torture you bring into the El Guapo household?
Leave me! I tell them as I hold in my hand something that was previously not allowed into my house: a razorblade, Mach III. I must do this or anonymous commenter will forever haunt my dreams.
Anonymous commenter, I gazed into the mirror and saw my extremely sexy eyes trembling with fear. Anonymous commenter, I wish you could be here to taunt me, but your words are for ever drilled into mi mind. I slowly took the Mach III to my upper lip while a tear which could not be stopped dripped down my face onto the floor; and the floor trembled.
Did I use shaving cream anonymous commenter? NO! I wanted to feel the pain of your words on my face. I started slowly and then vigorously removing my old friend for you anonymous commenter. The women, all of them, were saying: El Guapo! No! It is such a nice, sexy mustache, please El Guapo. Por favor!!!
I could not look at my face in the mirror for fear of not seeing my old friend. I washed my face and dried with a yellow towel. I opened the door to the gasps of the women in my family. Mi abuelita put her hand to her face to block my view. Why? Why do they do this anonymous commenter? I ran to the mirror and opened my incredible eyes and saw my face.
Anonymous commenter, it was, ay, it was glorioso! Amazing. Increible! I was even more guapo than I could have ever imagined. The level of guapo-ness was one that I was not familiar with and at first I was afraid, nay, petrified. I kept thinking I couldn’t live without you by my side anonymous commenter, but because of you, mi grande amigo. I am even more Guapo.
GRACIAS! Oh, brave anonymous commenter for showing me the light. Your brave anonymous comments on blogs have finally found their purpose. I blow you a kiss and know you will get it, tonight. Maybe tomorrow, though.