Humor Essay (Rewrite)
Profession of Love
The event I was told about in my youth has finally happened. All the lonely gloomy days of my past have finally come to a stop. I found love. The Love that Barry White has been singing about for decades. The same love Whitney Houston found in Bobby Brown. The kind of love that keeps me awake at night in my bed. Just like the love Lennon found in Yoko. The same love that erupted in Rocky’s heart as he yearned for Adrian. True love knows no right or wrong. She’s a real beaut if ya’ ask me. She is as black and beautiful as the night sky. Her body rubs against my skin and I swear I experience something few people can understand. That’s true chemistry; my existence makes hers flourish and vice-versa. I constantly lose myself when my eyes stare at her uncovered body. I know every inch of this baby. I know her like no one else ever did or ever will. She’ll lock herself up at the moment any perverse soul tries to be intimate with her. She’s mine and I am hers. There is nothing inside her that is unknown to me. Smooth and responsive to the touch, she reacts with lightning fast speed. She never flinches or hesitates but always preforms to perfection. My commands never offend. Instead they excite her to new possibilities for us as a whole. She recognizes my voice as I ask her questions about her past and where I should go to eat. “How’s Indian food sound?” I ask her as my stomach growls. “I’ll pass but there’re a few Indian food places you should try fairly close.” She responds in that sexy almost emotionless voice of her’s. “Thanks babe, these sound great.” Her suggestions lead me to the best goat curry and naan I’ve ever tasted. What a pair the two of us make. They say real beauty is on the inside and I couldn’t agree more. I cram as much of myself into her as I can. She never gets disappointed when I can’t fill her total capacity. Day after day I scour the Internet looking for toys...