A Note From James To All The Ladies

Ladies of the world, I regret to inform you I am now engaged to be married. I know this will come as quite the blow to my legion of female admirers. Please, I urge all of you to show some restraint in your mourning. Do not be rash. This announcement is sure to enflame the hearts of all the fine women who have admired me from afar. I admonish you, commit no violence. I know life may not seem worth living knowing I will never be yours, but you cannot fall into despondency. Right now, knowing you will never feel the pure, erotic ecstasy of James’s beard rustling against your cheek, things may appear bleak. But I beg restraint of each and every one you.

Ladies, I know you have followed me quietly from a distance. You have watched me on stage with The Cellar Dwellers. You have listened to my rugged tones on Dodge Intrepid and the Pages of Time. You have read my droll little writings on the interwebs. You are enamored of me. I know. Who can blame you? If I were a comely young lass, I would fantasize about these chiseled masculine features, this broad chest and strong arms, and this thin hair slowly receding from the peak of my skull revealing the pale scalp of masculine desire. If I were a girl, I would be totally into me too. I would fantasize of kissing these rough chapped lips. I would dream of my rude grasping embrace. Really, I can’t blame you young fillies for wanting this, but unfortunately, there is only so much James to go around. Instead of passing it quickly about allowing everyone only a scant taste of the James, I have decided to bestow one lucky girl – my fiancé – with a cup over-flowing of James. She can drink deeply of James and horde me all to herself, while the rest of you fine mistresses can only imagine the sweet taste of this James nectar never to be tasted.

This will be difficult for you. Many of you have built elaborate fantasies around being romanced by me. Many more have imagined themselves entwined in a loving embrace with me, my groping hands all over their woman bits. I hate to tell you fine examples of the fairer sex that these fantasies will never come to pass. I have pledged my love and fidelity to but one woman. I shall be ever faithful. I also urge all of you not to abandon my many projects. I know the success of the Cellar Dwellers and Dodge Intrepid has largely hinged on the perceived availability of all this – when I type ‘this’ I am gesturing toward my face and body. I know young women have been coming to these shows for years just to catch a glimpse of my handsome visage. Please, do not stop coming just because there is now no chance of you ever getting with me. Hopefully, you can come to appreciate the Cellar Dwellers for their humor and creativity and not just as a James delivery system.

Ladies, remain calm and rational in this time of hysteria. I may be off the market, but there are many other men out there. Sure, they cannot hope to measure up to James, but, in time, you will come to accept this. In the meantime, all you fine bitches will have to make do with fantasies. I will always be available to you in the fertile fields of your dreams. Even though these fantasies have been neutered by the loss of the possibility of attainment, fantasies are all I have to offer. No, ladies, I will never make sweet, sweet love to you, but if you want to picture my face on your boyfriends body or scream my name in a moment of ecstasy I cannot blame you. Who could?

Shalom