Dear Enchantment Resort,
I feel it necessary to print a retraction of yesterday's post. I have since learned more about you, what lies beneath you and why you must exist.
I recently found myself in a B&B hot tub with smoking hot homeless guy, who may or may not have brought a bar of soap into the tub with us, I won't say. I will say I have discovered the source of his homelessness, which is dual: he is a free spirit, and very fiscally irresponsible. Who am I to judge? I get a big paycheck and its hookers and blow for everyone! Let's sip champagne from condor eggs!
Our conversation eventually drifted to Enchantment Resort, and I commenced to bitching and moaning about industrial ceilings and desecration of sacred burial grounds--a sizeable rant, since it's that time of the month--and then homeless guy told me a thing or two about what's actually going on beneath the resort--the truth of the matter--and why the place must exist. Boy, did I feel like an ass.
Why didn't you tell me you're a cover for an ancient Lemurian civilization/underground cloning facility dedicated to the production of alien/human hybrid specimens and human clones for rich sensualists so mired in narcissism they're willing to pay top dollar to have paradoxical sex with themselves (who's the top?) I feel like I wouldn't have been so mad at you if you had been honest.
Anyway, it all makes sense now. It's understandable, and I'm not only completely supportive of your mission, I'm interested in having a gander at your price list. It's not that I'm piqued by the idea of having sex with myself. I'd like to think, if I switched teams, I wouldn't be into getting with a lady who had the body of a twelve year old boy. No, it's that cloning oneself sounds like an interesting novelty, I'm fiscally irresponsible, and I sure could use an extra pair of hands around the house. Consider how much procrastinating and masturbating I could get done if there were two of me. It boggles the mind.
In closing, I formally apologize, and I hope to hear from one of your sales representatives post haste.