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Dear Women: Letter 3

Dear Women,

Heyy. I’m with my friends for the weekend, and so far today, we have played four games of MLB the Show, eaten cinnamon buns that we found on the counter from whomever was here before us, and masturbated (not together, but we’re pretty vocal about when it’s going down).

For some reason, I get a small feeling that when you all spend time together, that’s not quite exactly what it looks like. I’ve gotten that far, but past that, I haven’t the faintest fucking clue what it is you all do when you’re together. I know I’d like to imagine you’re all dressed in booty shorts and inappropriately fitting tank tops getting frisky with one another. That would be pretty dope. Do you do that? Probably not.

Maybe you like to talk about stuff? What stuff would that be? Chick stuff? I don’t know. I’m really at a loss. Usually I can kind of put myself into another person’s head for this kind of thing and try to come up with what they may be experiencing, but this is not one of those things. Other than a softcore-lesbian orgy, I can’t imagine you doing anything. In my head you’re all just sitting around staring at walls until you feel the time is right to make a TikTok and post an Instagram story. I know you do something. You can’t hide it for long.

This is my official announcement that I will be launching a full-on investigation into the behavior of women while they are by themselves. And although I probably will enjoy the cross-dressing that will come with my undercover work, know that I am doing this not for the thrill of stepping out of my own skin for a while and releasing my feminine side, but because science. That is all.

Love,

VinegarStrokes

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Written by VinegarStrokes

Above average intelligence, below average weiner.

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