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08 November 2015

Vleeporn! / e-mail from abroad / e-mail from a broad / hookup alert! / erotic multiplier effect of impending world/nuclear/chemical war & life-extincting holocaust

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Lenny & Spike the runaway dropout teenage weasel and stoat who help out around Vleeptron and briefly ran the Zero-Friction Thrill & No I.D. Cheap Beer Park on the system's Rules-Lite Planet Hoon were supervising the Vleeptron e-Mail Spam & Malware filter  -- we call it The Great Firewall of Vleeptron -- and after they left to get to a Fudge Tunnel concert at Club Drek, I found we had received this wholly unsolicited message:


FROM: Valencia Loffler
SUBJECT: Feeling Horny? Get Laid Now!

Hello straṇger sex master.
I just bro͑ke up wit֮h my BF a֖nd I'm l֓ooking for sٛome f͕un :ֵ-) Wa֣n̊t to come over?
My s٘cr֙eenname is Vٗalencia90 ))
My pr֧ofile i͛s here: h ttp://


Valencia90 and I are both in the Northern Hemisphere, as winter approaches. So this invitation sounds very inviting, and maybe even more stimulating than such hookups usually are as the United States of America and Russia seem, in two or three locales, to be toying with the idea of direct armed conflict. Both Russia and the USA have missiles armed with fission and fusion weapons, and Syria has brought back the long-gone but well-remembered Poison Gas Warfare. 

Great and crappy world literature alike have found that when War Breaks Out, everybody's nipples get stiff and everybody gets a big erection, no Viagra necessary. You don't even have to use that herbal stiffener that they sell at Apu's convenience store on the Vegas Strip.

Because we both know there's a very good chance this may be the last time we get to bang one another, or, for that matter, to bang anyone. The MoD may even permanently prohibit masturbation, or make it a lot harder than it used to be.

Valencia (who truly is 90) is very clearly a fur-clad Russian babe, but our analysts at the Vleeptron Security Agency suspect she's posing on a sidewalk in Queens or Brooklyn or maybe the Bronx. That's my old beloved Marlboro cigarette brand ad in the background. And the alphabet is all Roman, not Cyrillic. 

No flies on the boffins at VSA, who lease office space in the Tri-Sky-Hi Towers in Ciudad Vleeptron. Valencia cannot keep her true location secret from Rumply Snrq-Bellvale and his Team for long.

So if I decide to go for it, I may only have to take a 6-hour Amtrak train for our secluded rendezvous over borscht and vodka (not that French vodka, either, the Real Tovarich Brand stuff).I hope she can get her hands on a tin of Caspian caviar, too. Does she take credit cards? Or American dollars? Or The New Tumbling Ruble? Euros?

Valencia's e-mail seems to be trying to inspire me to travel

4161 miles (6696 km) (3616 nautical miles) 

to make this hookup happen. 

What should I do? Please Leave A Comment.

"Of all our regrets, the coldest and most empty are of temptations we have successfully resisted."

-- James Branch Cabell
("tell the rabble
it rhymes with Cabell") 



I just noticed the dot br -- to get a little of the old in-out, I may have to get my fundijo to the Southern Hemisphere, maybe the Beach at Ipanema, or maybe Valencia is dancing at the SambaDrome with skin glitter.

4858 miles (7818 km) (4222 nautical miles)

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