“I’ve been thinking some of suicide, but there’s bars out here for miles.” –David Ryan AdamsGreetings,
The address you gave me looks straight-up made-up. If you’re reading this, it’s a goddamned miracle. You’ve undoubtedly already discovered the friendship bracelet included if this made it though. I hope these colors aren’t offensive to any ethnic group you’re carousing with around Iraq or wherever the hell. It’d be pretty ironic if you were to get hurt because of friendship. I mean I’d chuckle, but it’d still be basically un-funny. Also, do me a favor and don’t do anything super gay with this bracelet, it was made out of love so don’t like go get a buddy and tie your dicks together and race. If you do this, don’t tell me. You should just write about it, keep it in your diary or something. Dick races, fag.
I’ve been bugging [redacted] a bunch to get her to send me a titty picture. You should do the same. Two heads working on this problem are probably better than just the one. You could always fuck things up but I reckon I could too. Titties are sensitive things, you’ve got to be careful, unless they’re into that sort of thing. I like to get bit from time to time, pain can be pleasure or whatever. I’m not saying that’s what I’m all about, just that it’s something I enjoy.
I also really love my old lady friend [redacted]. We got back together again and it’s like every time we get back: love at first sight like Kylie Minogue. I’ve hollered at a few of those broads from them interwebs, just in passing though. I also keep bitching out of meeting up with them. Partly because of some bad experiences: the swede and then that big girl from second senior year that wound up living on the floor below me. I bitch out of meeting partly because these bitches seem to want to go on a right proper date like coffee and conversation and such. I basically want to meet a broad at a bar, get sloppy and then get it sloppy. Aw, see what I did there?
I’ve been slumming with gutter trash lately and that’s not doing anyone any good. I gotta find myself a nice pussy to hibernate in for the winter. Hump on a regular slam piece, feel me? I’m talking about a real nice one too, with glitter and such. Blow me some kisses.
Lately the old boss lady’s been cracking down on my arts and crafts time, that’s why I made this bracelet instead of sending you a paper dragon. Basically, I have to hide or mail away any new origami because apparently arts and crafts are a waste of child support’s time. That’s bullshit because I was under the impression that child support was wasting my time, AKA arts and crafts time.
When next you’re in town you’ve got to hit on these electronic cigarettes I smoke. They are the best thing ever. I can smoke ‘em wherever, whenever, however and I like the way they taste. Tasting good is usually a requirement for me to endorse something or someone. No smell and no more cigarette holes burned in my sheets/mattress/clothes/car upholstery/etc. Hooray for this happy day.
I don’t want to write too much because like I said earlier, I have no idea if this will even reach you. Since I steal most of my envelopes (pre-stamped, knuckle) I often hesitate to put a return address. Your address is clearly fictitious so I’ll be sure to include the return instructions this time. If you get this, let me know. Also, I’m mailing this on September 14th.
Regards,
Javier F. Nelson
P.S. – Don’t enjoy your friendship bracelet too much, try and sell it. I can send you a couple of these shits per week if we can bang a few bucks out of the whole ordeal. Keep it realer, negrodamus.
*The above letter was sent to a friend of mine in the armed services and returned to me. It’s being transcribed here because the post office is clearly incompetent. Some of the names have been changed but the places remain the same.
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