Monday, January 12, 2009

Circling the drain here in the armpit of America since 1979.

To a lovely couple in Shelby County:

You, craptet, should go lovingly suck on a beanpole in hopes of achieving more noticable results than sending cowardly, pedantic text messages to us.

Perhaps I should suggest that you, in the future, get off your paranoid jackasses and, oh shit!, act like responsible adults.

As it is, you are most certainly at the will of two very tired, very busy, very smart, hot, and crowded grown-ups who are elephantine in their memory.

Your Mom

P.s. The philosopher who resides here wants you to know that 'late' is a relative term, and no lateness can exist without some pre-decided specification of what shall be 'not late'. Suck on that.

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