This is How You Blackmail Jeff Bezos, Guys DEAR MR. BEZOS: YEAH, SO. JUST READ the descriptions of those pics the National Enquirer got their hands on, and should Amazon customers see them — which would clearly be in their best interest — they would, quite frankly, question your business judgment. I certainly do! I do also have just a few really quite minor suggestions about your Instagram filters, but let’s save that for the bit in the deli when we sign the “catch and kill.” Alright, here’s the deal: Basically, the “sketch” and “cartoon” options are not considered, you know. Au courant, at least, if you want even a shot at being an “Influencer.” But more on that later. Honestly? I’d say just a little more contrast. Remember that “brightness” is all about the mid-tones, and jeepers, don’t miss out on the red-eye reduction! Saves you hours in post! Are you getting this down? Now on to the blackmail bit, and apologies for the delay, which I’m sure must be making you feel a bit antsy. So, you’ve revealed just a teensy bit more than you intended. Now we know what that bulge in your pants was. We thought it was just a great, big, rolled-up wad of billions of dollars in corporate welfare you got for building your second HQ in New York City — that sleepy, second-rate wannabe town that’s been aching for someone, anyone, but mostly you, to help it break out of that loser mentality that’s kept it beaten down and struggling. I do also have just a few really quite minor suggestions about your Instagram filters That’s how it’s been in New Amsterdam, right? Ever since the Dutch dropped anchor thinking they were somewhere in southeast Asia, and proceeded to eke out their wretched lives eating tulip bulbs with the dirt still on them, forcing their women folk into sexual slavery — exposing themselves behind plate glass windows as they proffered their freshly-baked Apfelkuchen. Ja, das schmeckt! But, no. It was your, and you may want to ask the little ladies and kids to leave the room at this point, “semi-erect manhood;” due, I have no doubt, to the “cleavage” on display; and as far as business judgment goes, nice try with the “fully-erect manhood and two great big naturals available when you join ‘Prime.’” Nice try but no cigar, except with the simulated depiction of oral sex. My interest, among other things, peaked, just a little, at “nether regions,” and it raised an eyebrow at the felicity of an AMI executive being named “Mr. Pecker.” Are you serious? The Peckers consider baby names: “If it’s a girl, let’s name her ‘Brandy’. It’d be nice to have a stripper in the family, especially if she goes the ‘European-style’ route. If it’s a boy — how about Richard? No?” Sometimes, Mr. Bezos, life is perfect. Let’s cut to the chase, Mr Bezos, or now that we know each other so much better, how’s about I just call you Jeff? Hmmmm? Or, sure, maybe just stick with “Mr. Bezos.” Mr. Bezos is fine. Not a problem. The folks at AMI apparently read a lot of trashy pulp novels from the 1950’s (“She was a Kitten with a steno pad… but a Tigress between the percale sheets!”) and I squirm with delight at their inability to say “penis,” “erection,” or “pubic.” Even my five-year-old great-nephew can say those! (At least, he could before Doug Ford replaced the Ontario sex-ed curriculum with free copies of “Saint Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians.”) That iPhone X is lookin’ pretty damn tasty, Mr. Bezos. Reading the tantalizing, babelicious descriptions had raised my temperature to such a degree that — well. I had to take things in hand. Reading the tantalizing, babelicious descriptions had raised my temperature to such a degree that — well. I had to take things in hand. Five minutes under a cold shower, which is apparently all my landlord is able to provide this week, has ruined my Galaxy S2. Waterproof, my eye! I’m not going to pussyfoot around, here. I publish this on my blog (readership approaching one hundred, it’s possible my mom subscribed twice, but whatever), OR I get free shipping OR next-day delivery, I’ll decide later, on… Well, I dunno. That iPhone X is lookin’ pretty damn tasty, Mr. Bezos. OK, OK, relax! It was just a thought. No, really, forget it. Sheesh! Jump all over me or what! I’ll be fine. I’ll just — stick it in a bag of rice. My phone. OK, so text me. No, call. Yeah, nearly had me putting it in writing, you sly dog! Ha! Nice one! You’re good! All the best, Dave “Pecker” Roddis P.S.
I’d be happy with even the 8GB iPhone X, just so you know. Also, about the semi-erect thing, Cialis works great, with, honestly? only a really small chance of stroke, with just a slightly bigger chance if you’ve taken aspirin in the past ninety days. And if you order the generic ones from India you get 50% off your next purchase. I’ll send you a coupon. They call it “the weekender,” that’s just man to man between you and me, and I think you’ll find it’s totally worth the risk. Start with half a one first and see how it goes, is my idea. Aspirin! I know, seriously? ֍ #Blackmail #JeffBezos #Pecker