Letter 16

LETTER 16:

Dear [adult swim],

I've been sick lately. I'm not saying this to excuse any spelling errors, or letters sent out of order, or general lapses in judgement. It would be wrong of me to play on your sympathies and ask you to be anything less than critical of my work. Even though I suffered for days.

And almost died.

I had a fever for three days, and it may have been a hallucination, but at one point I sneezed and Santa Claus came shooting out of my nose. He asked me what I wanted for Christmas and I told him I wanted a job with [adult swim]. He said, "They don't just give those to anybody. You've gotta have talent."

"I do," I said, and he said, "Well, you also need a trendy windy and a hard boiled sock."

"Oh," I said. "What's a trendy windy?" but before he could answer Santa melted into snot. So far I've boiled a sock for three days and it still isn't hard. And I still have no idea what a trendy windy is. It could be the latest fast food craze, or a fashionable fart. Or it could be a fart from eating the latest fast food craze.

signed

Ps. Should I store my trendy windies in plastic bags or glass jars for shipping?

Pps. About the song I wrote yesterday... I was very sick and when I wasn't having visions of St. Nick I honestly believed I was Luke Duke. See, I was making my way the only way I knew how. It was just a little bit more... nevermind.

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