Dear Thom,
You lost one of my letters! I did not wish to start my letter with that sentence but sometimes I get very emotional. I thought by delaying my reply to your last.......your last.....(sob! slobber!, sniff, sniff.) You must excuse me, sometimes I go all to pieces just thinking about it. I think I'll go to dinner now and finish this when I come back in what I hope will be a calmer state of mind. Excuse me.
Interlude.......soft music......
You lost one of my letters! Fiend! Sadist! Irresponsible Cod! What other insufficient phrases can I heap upon your ungrateful countenance? What can I say? Can your grief, though it undoubtedly exceeds all similar emotions in recorded history in sheer brute intensity, in any way begin to make recompense for the fact that you have lost a document on the par with the Magna Charta, the Ems Dispatch, and Mein Kampf. thou literary B.A. (Benedict Arnold). dost
thou not know that thou hast unleashed a document upon a world completely unprepared for the omnipotent message it contains. Even now some wandering itinerant may be reading it. He will, of course, immediately fall into a state of deep shock brought on by sheer inspiration. I estimate that this condition will last from 3 to 15 years depending on his I.Q., but when he arises on the last day of his coma he will rule the world. The only chance you have for even partial redemption is to scour the countryside indiscriminatelyy slaying all those who appear to be lost in a stupor, drunken or otherwise. I'm sure your frat brothers will assist you in this noble endeavor, although undoubtedly many of them will be the first to lose their lives in your bloody purge.
Since you do have the rest of my letters, I hope, I suppose I have no choice but to overlook your indiscretion, if that is possible. With this thought half-heartedly in mind, I will shift my topic to one of a light nature though no less in immediate importance.
Tough bananas about G, but then they say summer in Okinawa can't be beat, just like city hall.
So you were playing celibate again over Keen Green weekend, and at a party school too, tsk, tsk.
So you're being bothered by thoughts of S, eh, and yet your psychoanalyst tells you that you are enamored with O'Meara. Why don't you get him to send S a word association test - - she'll never catch on. You could make it multiple choice.
Sample Questions:
Pick one letter:
1) Boy
a) Modus........because
b) Busy
c) Tom
d) Mann Act
2) Dartmouth
a) Whoo-Wa_Whoo
b) Tom
c) Mot
d) Loras
3) Date
a) Tom
b) Thomas
c) Thomachura
d) Machu
e) Charles Brown
f) All of the above
4) Sex
a) Boys
b) Girls
c) Tom
d) Pepsi-Cola
e) None of the Above
I hope this helps you in some way.
I've been busy lately what with both the sandwiches and summer storage to sell. On the night of the 13th I sold my 10,000th sandwich and naturally had my picture taken in the process for publicity purposes.
I will send your precious letter back, fear not, although it is still stained slightly with the results of my nausea which I suffered upon reading it.
That's it for now. Write unto me all salient news.
Now, it''s hotter than Sam down here, haven't worn a jacket in days.
Bob - o
