Thursday, July 1, 2010
An open letter from Jacob the Sexy Werewolf Boy
Dear women over the age of 21,
I am very grateful that Abe has allowed me use of his blog to reach out to you. He is a good, handsome and incredibly smart mortal man that cares about the well being of shirtless teenage werewolves everywhere.
I am here to ask you women one simple request: ENOUGH WITH THE OGLING AND THE WHISTLES AND THE PSYCHO LOVE LETTERS... IT'S GETTING OLD AND IT'S GETTING CREEPY!
I am 17 years old. 17!!! Wherever I go, you old chicks are totally cramping my style with your staring and drooling. It's kinda disgusting actually.
You know who else is 17? Miley Cyrus. Yep, 17... and you KNOW you would smack your husband in the pancreas if you ever caught him gawking at her underaged body.
I know that some of you think that I'm just ASKING for it by going shirtless and displaying my perfectly crafted boy pecks. Well, here's the thing: I've TRIED putting on a shirt. I've even TRIED putting on metal armor. No matter what kind of clothing I put over these luscious pubescent abs, they just MELT OFF MY BODY, on account of my overwhelming sexiness.
(Pants will actually stay on me because my legs look like Clay Aiken's, only slightly hairier. For that, I am grateful.)
I get that it is hard not to look, but do you really have to talk about me like I am a piece of prime meat? Whenever I overhear one of your pathetic, middle-aged cougar conversations about my dark, urban handsomeness, it makes me REALLY uncomfortable.
Do you realize what it's even like to go through puberty as a half-boy, half-wolf? Most boys get freaked out by a few new armpit hairs. I have armpit hair growing out of my armpit hair!
I promise you, I really am not all that alluring and mysterious. I spend most of my time watching Dr. Oz or Teen Wolf II. (I only wish I could dunk a basketball like that... or surf on top of a custom van.)
Besides it being against the law and somewhat sickening, there are a multitude of reasons you don't want to be with me:
1. I have to do three circles before I get into bed.
2. I have the hardest time not eating my own vomit.
3. I am not housebroken.
4. I could maim or kill you. (On account that I am a werewolf)
5. Do you like the smell of wet dog?
6. Did I mention that I could kill you at any second?
7. I listen to a lot of Snoop.
8. I have the legs of Clay Aiken.
Plus, Bella needs me. I am her best friend. I help her fix motorcycles. I give her shirtless kisses in the rain and protect her from that pale sicko with the shiny scales.
Really, I promise, I am not interested in you older ladies. Wolves and cougars are not a good mix anyway. I think that I will stick to girls my age named Bella. I helped her fix a motorcycle.
17, motorcycles, boy-pecks, rain kisses.
I appreciate your understanding. You may now go back to swaddling your tee shirt with the picture of me on it in your creepy, old lady bosoms.
But please, go see Eclipse! And go Team Jacob!
Now if you will excuse me, I need to go cliff diving with my buddies.
Jacob, Sexy Werewolf Boy