Saturday, September 29, 2007

In Other News, I Can Help You Write That 'I'm Sorry I Drove You To Drink Letter.' In Fact, Let's Do That Right Now.

Just look at what you made me do!

First of all, it's important to address me correctly so I know who the letter is coming from. For example, you might include one of the following as your salutation: 'dear ex-girlfriend' or 'dear ex-girlfriend' or 'dear ex-girlfriend.' You get the drift. Also appropriate would be: 'dear stalking victim' or 'dear stalking victim.' Yes, I am talking to both of you. Just because the first time happened 13 years ago doesn't mean it doesn't count. There is no statute of limitations on driving a person to drink.

In other news, my cat, Stanley, the cat behind the cat that is 'my cat, Gerard Butler,' has spent most of his 15 minutes of IMDB fame (now over) doing exactly what he usually does. Sleeping. Meowing in an annoying fashion. Eating. Chasing chubby co-pet Morgen around the living room. Finding himself confined to the kitchen and back hallway because his chasing of chubby co-pet Morgen is annoying to chubby co-pet Morgen and to others. Meowing in an annoying fashion. Also, he is not an enchanted prince. I have already checked. Nor, do I presume, does he have assets hidden somewhere in a Swiss bank account. That would be really cool if he did though.

In other news than that, an important commission recently discovered that 'job skills' is only one (alphabetical) letter away from 'job kills.'

Just a few more possibly appropriate salutations: 'dear co-worker' or 'dear employee.'

Or, 'dear daughter.' I'd be willing to write this letter myself and just let the guilty parties get away with giving me their John Hancocks. Yeah, we get along fine now. In fact, we get along really well now. But like I said. There is no statute of limitations about driving people to drink!

I feel like I must be leaving someone out. Although I (blah blah) now enjoy alcohol responsibily in small, manageable quantities, I did do a fair amount of drinking back in the day. And I am pretty sure it was always someone else's fault.

In other news, my cat, Stanley, the cat behind the cat that is 'my cat, Gerard Butler' is sleeping right now. I'm just going to go doublecheck and make sure he doesn't have a wallet somewhere that he's hiding from me. Being the core cast member of Disability in the City is really killing me financially. In my case, that's like killing something that was already dead.

In other news, if my cat could write, he'd be writing me that letter right now. I think you should probably take the next few minutes to do a little soul-searching.

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