quillDear William and Penelope,

I would like to sincerely thank you for opening your heart and your home to me while you were away on vacation. It has meant the world to me that I have such loving and caring friends who will treat me as a member of their own family. It has reawakened a level of trust with people that I thought I had lost long ago. I owe my renewed faith in humanity to you! Kudos!

I am sorry that I could not be there to welcome you back into your home, but you have more than likely shuffled through your front door, ready to unpack your bags as well as unwind from your weary travels, took a look around your humble abode and found this note hanging peacefully on your refrigerator.

And you are probably looking for some kind of explanation(s).

First, I do apologize wholeheartedly for the shaving crumbs I left in the bathroom sink. That was a happenstance of the morning rush I found myself in while getting ready today. I was terribly behind schedule to start my new life and didn’t want to be a minute later than I already was. It was awfully inexcusable for me to take advantage of your house that way; to figure that someone (besides me) will clean up my mess. I mean, what am, 2 years old? Puh-lease!

Next, you’re probably wondering about the living room windows that were smashed in with a brick that was tied to another brick. That was the pagersfault of my huffing buddy Lazlo. He can be a good guy sometimes and when I told him where I was staying, he didn’t hesitate to come on over. Now, as far as the bricks are concerned…Lazlo doesn’t have a cell phone; he has a pager. So when he needs to alert someone that he is at his destination, he simply fires a brick through the appropriate window.

I know, right? Who uses pagers anymore?

But as far as the brick that was tied to another brick: Lazlo told me that one brick carried the announcement of his arrival, while the one it was tied to was used simply to make the living room window yield to the message’s demands. I know, I know. I told Lazlo that only one brick needed to be brickthrown, as it would be able to handle the burden of multi-tasking both the dropping of the window as well as delivering the prudent message. He has since promised that he would only throw one brick the next time he comes to your house. I apologize on his behalf.

The master bedroom may appear to show signs of a terrible struggle and I want to let you know right now that no one was harmed (in your bedroom). In our search for some decent airplane model glue in which to huff, we came to Penelope’s armoire and soon spent the better part of an hour trying on her tiny shirts and “hulking out” numerous times before finally calling an escort service.

hulk1

It’s important to note here that there is a difference between “blood spatter” and when someone says “blood spLatter.” “Spatter” is when it comes out in drops. “Splatter” is when it comes out in huge splashes.

So when you walk into the living room, William, you should say, “Penelope! There is blood spatter all over the walls and across our framed family photos!”

And Penelope, you should say, “Not just that, but William, look at this! There is blood splattered all over our family quilt!”

Do you notice the difference? Well, you’ll see what I mean. Please use these words in proper accordance to the situation. The way people interchange these two words… It’s an ignorance that really grinds my gears. Sorry, I was an English major.

Lastly, in all the time it took to write you this letter, you would think I’d at least clean up the blood spatter. That is a wonderfully valid point to raise, but allow me to counter that point with a question: do you see the body of a soulless, bloodless prostitute anywhere? Please at least garner all the knowledge of a certain situation before you make any rash assumptions and look like a real jerk.

Again, thank you so much for your hospitality and grace that you have shown me by allowing me to stay here for the night. And thanks to the close proximity of your house near the courthouse, I was able to make my court-date on time. Kismet!

 

Signed,

Michael Timothy

Ps.

If you insist on calling the police, please do so quietly, as Lazlo is probably around there somewhere, sleeping it off. And Bill, I owe you one suit.

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