Don’t Share Your Junk [Hey, You!]

Illustration by Bob Aul

A group of friends and I met you on a Tuesday night in Sunset Beach. We didn’t want to meet you, but you insisted. We were in celebration mode, and Turc’s was the last place open for a nightcap. It seemed like you’d been there for a while based on how wasted you were, but my friends and I decided to look past it. (We’ve all been there; how can we judge?) In the spirit of a good evening, we exchanged numbers with unrealistic plans to smoketh le herb “one day” in the future. But then you decided to send us a picture of your old, repulsive phallus at 8 a.m. the next day. I just have one question: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU BORDERLINE FUCKING PEDOPHILE?! Please, for the love of Christ, go to Alcoholics Anonymous, the dentist and a psychiatrist. You need a lot of help. And DON’T EVER send a woman—or anyone, for that matter—a dick pic again.

Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to letters@ocweekly.com.

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