Alvin’s Letter

Hello websites, I have some important things to say and I’m going to type them on here. First and foremost, I’m 29.63 years old and I live with mother. I work for her too; my daytime job is to be her son. It sounds hard but it’s really easy. All I have to do is watch TV, eat, and accompany her to the grocery store every once in a while to help carry stuff—I hate this part the most because I feel mother is being too lazy, she could easily do this part on her own. But that’s another story. Now, some nights, when mother allows me to leave the house, I volunteer as an alcohol man (pronounced “drunkàrd” in the Oxford English Dictionary) at our local bar. I use the pay money mother gives me to do this job and I usually do it in silence at an empty table. The people there are always busy talking to other people but I think they can tell I’m fun and would surely come and talk to me if they weren’t busy with their initial conversations. True enough, sometimes I do feel lonely at the bar, but as a man of noble birth, I don’t let that phase me and I remain committed to my work as an alcohol man because it’s important to be an active part of your community. I can’t quite remember when I started volunteering at this particular bar, all I know is, it’s very rewarding. The job makes me feel confident and handsome until the next morning when I wake up with an aching head. I’m not complaining, though, because I understand that nothing good comes easy and pure water has no fish.

I feel like this is a good time to point out that earlier when I said that no one talks to me at the bar, I wasn’t telling the complete truth. The bartender talks to me. She asks me what I want to drink and other stuff too sometimes if I beg her to stay with all my heart and soul. She doesn’t always stay when I plead but when she does it’s the exclamation mark on a lifetime of good decisions. Once or twice, I’ve told her that I want to have sex with her. That’s when I take a picture of her then post it online and stare at it (I first heard about sex from my little cousin about 4 years ago. He was 11 at the time). She says “eww” when I ask but I’ve heard mother say that women sometime play hard to get and I think it applies here.

Truth be told, I don’t think I’d be able to have sex with the bartender for long because I’m not allowed to use the internet for more than 30 minutes a day. And I’ve promised myself that I’d spend 15 of those minutes going through the google alerts I get for Luke Skywalker. Some of you may be wondering what google is. Well, comrades, Google is this cool internet site I use to search for other internet sites. You guys can use it too. In fact, I demand that you guys use it. It’s really good… Also, a part of my internet time has to be used talking to Donald, my youth pastor and friend through many dangers—my only real friend if you don’t count mother. I never really made friends I can actually touch during my school years because I was confined to the yard during recess (I was home-schooled).

I won’t spend more time talking about my life because it should be clear by now that I lead a charmed life—a fast get up and go one that most people rightly envy. And I’d be boasting to the point of being insufferable if I continued talking about my blessings. As some Asians I know would say, “shawty lead a hell of a life.” It should be understood here that the only Asians I know are from the Wu-tang Clan, a group consisting of some really talented hip hop men. But I digress. What I really want to talk about is my brother’s attitude towards women: he says mean things about them for no good reason. Yes, of course I’ll elaborate.

Now this may come as a surprise to you, websites, but I’ve never really had sex before. I know what you’re thinking—how can a nobleman who women clearly find striking and attractive remain celibate? The reasons I’ve listed afore should make this understandable. Nevertheless, this doesn’t mean my chances have been few. I remember one specific instance in which a girl, Susana, came into my room and asked if I wanted to “do it,” so naturally I started setting up my Stars Wars board game, Come to the Darkside, because “do it” to me means using the force to the fullest. However, she laughed and told me that we’d have to get naked to “do it” and that Stars Wars was a “dumb” game/movie. I asked her to leave because one, I won’t tolerate any derision/contempt/slander against Star Wars—even my beloved mother has to show reverence for my passion– and two, why the fuck would I get naked outside of a bathroom? So, not surprisingly, the silly girl and I haven’t spoken since.

You might be wondering who is Susana and where she came from, but that’s personal and, hence, none of your business, websites. Some things should remain private.

Now Susana told my brother and he laughed at me, saying I was afraid of seeing a woman naked. I said to him “nice try, buddy, I’m not.” I understood why he laughed though; he didn’t know that I had seen a woman’s naked body before and I didn’t even tell mother. I don’t think he would’ve laughed if he knew that. Here’s the story of how I saw a woman without clothes. One day my sister was taking a shower and I walked in the…on second thought, I’ll save this story for myself. It’s too good to share on here where nerds can see it anytime they want to. I hate nerds.

But enough divagation. Back to my weird brother. One day he had a girl in his room and she was making weird noises. It was as if she were being hurt and enjoying it. As a nobleman, I’m too honorable to know that a woman is being abused in my presence and do nothing, so I knocked on his door and confronted him. He told me they were playing call of duty, a very popular game at public school. By the way, he lives with my dad (about 3 blocks away) and dad allows him to go to public school. I guess dad doesn’t love him (but can you really expect anything more from a parent who has been arrested twice for stealing light bulbs?)…To this day, however, I don’t believe what my brother said about what he was doing to that girl. I think he was hurting her, God forbid. A week later, I overheard him talking to his friends in the living room about the girl, and he was telling them that she was good at “sex.” But I’m not 12, there’s no way I’m buying that, because why would a girl who’s good at sex make so much noise just posing for a picture?

My brother’s friends were from public school as well and they were also on vacation. He was telling them about the “bitch” he had in his room last Saturday and how he “murdered her vagina” (hint hint). He was talking as if he were some conqueror of a foreign land or at least a gold medalist in some heterosexual Olympic sport. And she was the loser. I was confused because I thought that if a girl allowed you to have sex with her it was because she’s nice and kind. So, I asked why they were talking about her like that. (Her real name is Susan, but I’ll refer to her as girl x from now on because I don’t want to tarnish her reputation. She has been through enough already. I mean, which loving parent would name their daughter Susan?) Anyways, he told me that girl x and other girls by extension deserve the “d & d” (dick and dash) treatment. That’s where you put your penis (love baton) in them and never talk to them again after you take it out. Apparently, that’s supposed to make them sink into the depths of despair and want you more. I know right, WTF? Why would anyone want to do that to a nice person who allowed you to have sex with them? I got really upset and told him that I’d like to have sex with the bartender, Suzette (what a noble name!!), because I hear that sex makes people feel good and I want her to feel good. And that if she agreed, I’d even “bone” her too (that’s when you put your love baton on her navel, which is sometimes called the clitoris). And that he should do the same to the girls in his life—treat them with respect and care…They all laughed at me but I didn’t cry (in front of them).

I was mad at him for nearly a week. All that changed as of yesterday, however, because he got hit by a car and I was feeling sorry for him for 33.91 minutes. I would have felt bad and sorry for him longer but my Luke Skywalker t-shirt came in the mail. I guess the universe has a way of working things out because I don’t like feeling bad.

Now, I don’t what anybody to be dazzled by my knowledge of sex. Mother has read me many books in order for me to acquire such a vast aggregate of facts. That’s the extent of her love. She really wants me to know what’s going on in the world and I don’t expect that every mom will be as kind to their progeny. What I want, however, is for young men to stop treating women badly just because of their gender. And be nice to them like it says in the Quran—my favourite book written by Mohammed Ali, which mother has read to me several times.

If you don’t agree with my message, I hope a car bounces your face.

My 30 minutes are up for today, so bye, websites.


Alvin, the noble.

Alvin, the Noble(Signature)


  1. It’s amazing how much we look up to universally recognized “cool” people, when often what is cool is a wanton disregard for others.

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