Well, after I published some letters from real American folks a few weeks ago, the response was overwhelming. I got even more letters and emails than ever before! My mailman threw them at me and tried to choke me because his back hurt from carrying them all (I don’t even know how he carried the e-mails! OMG!). I pinched his fat little cheek and said “Chin up, mailworker! The sun will come out tomorrow!” With this, he side-kicked my knee and tore my ACL. Luckily for you, I don’t need working knee tendons to write a blog post! LOL! Without further ado, here is some correspondence from my dear readers:
What is your problem with Twitter? I use Twitter all the time to tell people my whereabouts and whatnot. Not for nothing, Twitter is a godsend. Everyone who knows me knows what I am doing and where I am at any minute of the day. If I don’t update at least every 5 minutes, I get 10 phone calls from my friends saying “Where are you? What are you doing? Update your Twitter!” and I say “OK.” Then I hang up and update Twitter again. Lay off Twitter. Sounds like someone is jealous?
Tweeting in Tahoma
If Twitter is a godsend, then God must have also sent a retarded stick down from heaven for you to bash yourself in the head with. Update your status with that.
Dear Atoms Man,
Can you help me with my math homework? You appear to be very bright and mathematically inclined, so I figured I would ask you. I have attached five pages of algebraic equations that I have to balance. Please help me.
Desperate in Delaware
x+y = (1/3x * y). If x is 5, then y is ask your parents and stop bothering me with this useless crap. Write that answer down for every equation on all five pages. Thank me later.
My dog is staring at me. He won’t go away, but he also won’t tell me what is wrong. What do you think his problem is?
Dogged in Denver
My sorority name was Willow. How did you know that? What else do you know about me? Did your dog tell you? Anyway, there may be nothing wrong with your dog. He may just be waiting for you to get up so he can sit in your seat. He also may be infested with rabies. Swine Flu is also possible here. Use caution.
Dear Sweetie Pie,
I read your blog the other day and immediately broke out in hives all over my body. I think I’m allergic to your brand of humor. Would you consider writing in a different style? Maybe like ‘early-90’s Friends’ or ‘Cheech and Chong’? Let me know, I am in considerable discomfort but can’t stand the thought of never reading you again.
Itchy in Iowa
Sadly, I have tried to write in the styles you mentioned but then I broke out in hives. Must be a cross-generational hives thing. Here is a sample, hope it helps with the hives:
Ross: “Hey Joey, I want you to meet my new girlfriend Sophie.”
Joey: “How YOU doin’!”
Dammit, see, now I’m covered in hives. Please don’t write to me ever again.
Dear Mister Fun,
I would like to put on a play. OK?
Hopeful in Houston
This is a thoughtful letter, but I’m not sure what you are asking me. Do you want me to be the lead in the play? If so, then I accept, but only under the following conditions:
1. The play must be ‘West Side Story’.
2. I must be a ‘Jet’. Because when you are a Jet, you are a Jet all the way.
3. I must be allowed to use a real knife for all fight scenes.
4. My “singing double” must be Neil Diamond. The real Neil Diamond, not some Vegas lookalike.
5. Neil Diamond must be knifed and killed by the end of the play.
I have no ulterior motives here, so stop looking for them. My fee is 100,000 American dollars.
Dear Mr. Awesome,
I took a picture of you at your house while you were taking out the garbage. I was hiding behind your bushes, so the photo came out a little blurry. Plus, it is now covered with knife marks and dog excrement. Can you send me a clearer picture? Maybe autographed? Thanks.
Fingers-Crossed in Fairbanks
Mom, you always know how to cheer me up. It’s nice to know I’ll always have a fan in you. Of course I’ll send you an autographed photo. Just send a check for 45 American dollars to my P.O. Box. You should receive your photo in 6-8 weeks. No refunds.
Would that I might bend your ear for a moment’s breath. Ere the dawn fall and the night tower over the sky like a mighty hammer poised to strike, I am eager to communicate my ideas. ‘Twas early and the fog rolled over the meadow like creeping dread pausing only to allow the wind to interfere with its fiendish plans. I am a sun god ready to wield my flames like a torn lover wields their heart: with bitter words and furious bloodlust. Hear me and cower in your corner you worthless dog.
Mailman in Driveway
Well well well, who knew Mr. Mailman was Shakespeare Junior? Keep those letters coming. In my mailbox, OK? Not on the street, or in my trees? Thanks.
Blast From The Past!!!
3 years ago