To the many Selfie-Americans (as I understand you prefer to be called), who take time out from a busy schedule of feline stretching whilst wearing bikinis and backwards baseball caps to friend-request me on Facebook---
I find that I must pick my words carefully. I don't want anyone to get the idea that I'm prejudiced against scantily-clad women. I believe that a scantily-clad woman can do anything a man can do, and very possibly some things he couldn't do. And when scantily-clad women are in jeopardy, or in a desperate situation of some kind, I don't think twice about pitching in and lending a hand.
Since our home is situated right next to a scantily-clad sorority house (the Epsilon Croppa Toppas), and it's obvious to the naked eye that I'm more or less a man's man, I'm often called upon to help them snake out shower drains, rebuild VW engines, and relight their water heater pilots.
Sometimes, when I'm taking a short break, I'll take off my eye protection goggles and enjoy a few sips of the freshly-squeezed lemonade they offer me. (It's an adorable gesture, as many of their gestures are, but the lemonade is never fit to drink and I generally spit it into the bushes.)
So when I say I'm not prejudiced, I hope you can see that I'm sincere about that. It's just that I believe that clustering around my Facebook page isn't healthy for you; you're young, and scantily-clad, and it's not fair to keep you cooped up all day in an apartment. Scantily-clad women need lots of fresh air and exercise, and grilled chicken.
So, while I'm flattered by your interest in my old-person activities, and the photos that document my gradual physical and mental deterioration, it's for your own good that I'm not friending you back. If you are having trouble finding scantily-clad men to cluster around, try searching for names like Chad or Tyson, or just drive your convertible VWs to some place where windsurfing and kayaking are done on a regular basis.
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