An Open Letter To Erin The Esurance Girl

What is it about you that simultaneously makes me tingle in the crotch and causes me to question the very nature of human sexuality? You are but a cartoon yet I find myself longing to objectify you. In the midst of my drunken haze yesterday at the Colorado Rockies game, you teased me on the Jumbo Tron with your winning smile, your pink tresses flipping out from under your ball cap and your vibrant green eyes confidentially stating, “I am cute, I love Colorado Rockies baseball and I fight big insurance by defeating its evil representatives in assorted sporting activities.” Was it not you who went screaming down a mountain on a snowboard chased by mindless goons on snowmobiles just to save me 18 cents a month on my automotive policy? Was it not you who took to the ice in a desperate hockey match against villainous robots bent on lavish insurance premiums only to defeat them by playing goalie, offense and defense and eventually scoring the game-winning goal with a wicked slap shot? You little pink-haired minx. You have stolen my heart and more importantly, you have made me believe that I do not have to spend a bundle on auto insurance.

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