
I generally hate conformity, except when it comes to whomever I happen to be banging at the time. Before I started dating Rachel Evan Wood, she was your typical looking girl. Her wholesomeness sickened me—all that natural hair color and clear complexion. I can be very passive-aggressive when I want to. “Oh, the black hair dye is on sale at Walgreens,” I said one day. She didn’t get the hint. “Oh, the black hair dye is on sale at Walgreens,” I said again later that week. Finally, I drugged her and dunked her head in a bucket of black dye.
Some people say she’s slowly looking exactly like Dita Von Teese, which may be truth, though I molded Dita to look like Elvira—who I always thought was the female version of me. Now I know what you’re thinking: I’m already the female version of me. I suppose there’s some truth to that.
When I’m finished with Rachel, she’ll even have matching dental records with Dita, who once said to me during our courtship, “You had me at ‘I love your molars’.” There's just something about teeth; they look like tombstones.
I guess conformity is okay when you’re conforming into my personal dong receptacle. Oh Elvira, one day I’ll have you.








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