PLUS:

Dear Uncreative Metal Band,

Here is a great name for your newest album. “Welcome to my Knife-Mare”. Please now pay me with an enormous check stencil spray-painted on to piece of old cardboard.

AND:

Dear Post Feminist Literary Theorist,

Here is a great name for your graduate dissertation. “Welcome to my Wife-Mare.” Please now pay me with a check that is printed in 12-point font on a sheet of 8 and 1/2 X 11 paper with your last name and page number in the upper right-hand corner.

ALSO:

Right now I am at a coffee shop called EPOCH that is near my house. Andrew is reading a book by the man who wrote the little prince. Yesterday I was suffering from Cabin Fever until I decided to re-arrange my cabin.

We are getting our Internet service hooked up on Monday. It is through a corporation called “ROAD RUNNER”. Once this road runner hooks up my Internet service, I ought to be able to talk to you more. In related news I saw a real-life road runner cross the street the other day. This was the very first of this species I had actually ever seen in real life. Its’ size was a let down, but its’ speed did not disappoint.

The mechanics of its’ movement reminded me of the time my sister and I spent an entire day only walking sideways. This walking sideways tires your legs in ways you could not have imagined, tiring muscles in your legs that you did not know existed; muscles that are there for the sole and express purpose of walking sideways. You only use these muscles when you are stepping aside to let someone go ahead of you. These are muscles of curteousy