Dirty Letters

by Vi Keeland

We once had to postpone an album cover photo shoot because Styx, our drummer, got his tongue stuck to a stripper’s muff.” She squinted at me and shook her head, seemingly coming out of her fog. “Did you just say he got his tongue stuck to a . . . ?” I nodded. “Muff. Her pussy.” Luca looked rightfully confused. “Dumbass has a tongue ring. He went down on a stripper who had a clitoris ring, and the two somehow got connected, and they couldn’t disconnect them. He didn’t show up for the shoot and wasn’t answering his phone. So I went over to his place and pounded on the door. I figured he’d gotten loaded the night before and was passed out inside. When he still didn’t answer, I got the building super to let me in and found his head between her legs—they’d been stuck that way for four hours. Every time they tried to move, it hurt one of them, so they just lay in bed with his face planted between her legs and waited for his roommate to come home.” “Did you . . . unhook them?” “Fuck no. I did what any good buddy would do. First I FaceTimed the guys to show them the shit I’d just walked in on, and then I called 911 and snapped some pics while the two poor paramedics figured out how to remove the dumbass’s tongue ring without castrating the woman.

🤣