Q-Mail*

I got an email from Rancho today. Rancho and I were mates during the campaign in '92. We were pulling for different candidates and had totally different idea's about how to run the country. Nevertheless, we became close friends.
On election night I was speaking to a beautiful woman at the bar. Her name was Helena, and she was a first degree flower. Her eyes were blue, here hair was blonde, she was a beauty. Shortly after we began speaking Rancho arrived, he knew his party would lose the election and he was looking to get loose. Helena, Rancho and I conversed for several hours, and by the end of the night both of us had made a play for Helena. Rancho excused himself to "Drain the main vain" as he put it, and I saw my opportunity.

"You know Rancho is a communist, right?"
"Are you serious, that's fucked" replied Helena
"You wanna get outta here?"
"Sure do Cowboy." She said

The next morning the sun shined through my window and awoke us both. She rolled over and smiled at me.

"Good morning sunshine." She said
"Hey." I replied
"So was that guy last night really a commie?" She asked
"Yeah what a nut job right?" I said

As I got up to use the bathroom I heard her scream. Why was she so upset I wondered? Was it something I said? Was it something I did? Or was this the first time she had noticed the giant swastika tat that covered my entire back.

"What the hell is that!" She Yelled
"What?" I said
"That tattoo on your back, please tell me that it's a joke..."
"It's no joke, I am a neo-Nazi, is that a problem?"
"Hell yes its a problem, oh my god im gonna be sick..."

She ran around frantically picking up and putting on her clothes as if the room was on fire. She ran for the door opened it and turned back towards me.

"I should have gone home with the communist!" She yelled
"Whatever Bitch, we both know communism doesn't work..."

The door slammed, and I went back to sleep.