“I bought a Honda CR-V, and now I can’t stop graining on that wood!” These are the words that captured my attention when I read them in an email I received. Yes, so great was the impact these words had upon me that I set down my bagel, took a slow drink of coffee, considered resuming my recently abandoned methamphetamine habit, and then thoroughly read the email that was sent to me with great care. The contents were shocking, and I knew I needed to provide this vital and deeply meaningful information to you, my dear readers.
It seems that a man, who I’ll refer to simply as Mr. John Farthington (because that’s his name), recently purchased a 2023 Honda CR-V Hybrid, and immediately noticed a strange phenomenon. Rather than try to relay it to you indirectly, I’ll simply allow his words to do it for me. What follows is a small section of the email I was sent.
A Shopping Experience and an Awakening
“I wasn’t really interested in a hybrid model, but the handsome salesman at the dealership talked me into it. He kept touching my hand and telling me about the impressive fuel economy and remarkable features of the Honda CR-V Hybrid. Well, I was convinced, and after wondering what his mustache would feel like against my earlobe, I signed the paperwork and drove away.”
So far, this reads much like any other piece of erotic fan mail I receive, which I assure you is plentiful and highly detailed. But he continued.
“When I got home, that’s when things started to change. I greeted my wife with a brief one-armed hug, not wanting her full, weighty breasts to touch me too much, and then retired to my office. I was troubled. Something was on my mind that I just couldn’t forget about. I tried to distract myself by reading through my extensive collection of weight-lifting magazines and sorting my dress shirts by color and designer, but that couldn’t allay my worries nor address the new thoughts nagging at me.”
A Pause for Dramatic Effect
“That night it happened. After my wife went to bed, I went to the local bar, Stiff Willy’s, just like any other Thursday evening, and enjoyed a few drinks with the swarthy, shirtless men whose company I so often enjoy. Then I started inviting them to the backseat of my CR-V. One after another. I don’t even remember how it happened, really. Whatever triggered it, by the end of the night, I had gone down south of the border seven times. That’s at least three more than usual for a Thursday!
“I want you to know, sir, that I’ve never been gay a day in my life. Like any other straight man, I enjoy musical theater and spend a lot of time thinking about Henry Cavill’s muscular chest. That’s just being a man’s man. Of course, I spent a few years in college dating other men so that we could celebrate each other’s strength, and like any straight man, I’ve appreciated a fair share of decadent members, but I’m as straight as they come!”
The Brave Journey Continues
“But now that I have my Honda CR-V Hybrid, I just can’t stop smoking it to the nub. It affects my work and daily life. How am I supposed to help passengers find their seats at the airline I work for when I’m too busy thinking about the bulging shape of a stout and turgid member? Every text I send includes eggplants, and I can only wave using the tips of my fingers now. That’s how gay the CR-V Hybrid has made me! My wife can barely look at me. She’s too busy spending time with her roommate, Beth, and I don’t know what I’ll do with myself now.
“Other than tongue kissing the pork sword, of course. That goes without saying.”
I was so moved when I received this email, and I knew I had to share it with you, my dear readers, and warn you about the dangers of hybrid vehicles. Don’t worry about fires or weak motors. Those things are meaningless. No, my friends, you must beware of the effects of enhanced fuel economy and motorized performance because HYBRID CARS WILL MAKE YOU GAY! You’ve been warned.
So unless you want to spend your evenings hanging out with happy people, celebrating their lives, and being open and honest about who they are, I suggest you stick to your conventional gas engine and the perpetual feeling that something is missing from your life.
Editor’s Note: We also received a copy of this email, and we’d like to thank the author for not reproducing the crude series of drawings that accompanied it. We’re trying to determine the best way to use this information and ensure we provide a safe work environment for all of our employees. To this end, Lance in the publishing department has already started compiling a list of staff members who drive hybrids in order to ensure they feel as welcome as possible and invite them to a party to watch The Witcher, but only the tub scene.
