Dear Mr Adams, Let me start by telling you I’m not a Surrey Estate Agent. (God, the number of letters you must have had starting with that.) I will get straight to the point. I’m formally offering you the opportunity of an affair with me, you have been selected out of many WORLD-FAMOUS writers of humerus [sic] prose to be the recipient of a romantic involvement with me, the duration of which will depend on: a) Whether [sic] or not we speak the same language, and b) How good you are at screwing. The young lady in question said she was five feet eight, nine stone six, a brunette with
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