Letter 22

LETTER 22:

Dear [adult swim],

I have a confession to make. I don't have a degree in cartoons. My degree is in history.

Did you know that one of the favored tactics of the samurai was to go to the house of his enemy, set three sides on fire, and wait at the fourth side to kill the people as they fled. You don't see this tactic employed much on [adult swim] cartoons.

Yesterday I set fire to three sides of my resume hoping that all the jobs I hated would go running off the fourth side so I could kill them. They didn't.

I didn't get to meet Joey Ramone before he died. That bothers me sometimes. And I didn't get to meet Elvis Costello before he sucked. I wrote a song about how sad these circumstances make me. I don't want to show it to you though, because you'll laugh at it. Especially the part where I make love to a dragon out of sympathy because she's fat and hugely ugly. And how we have hundreds of scaly monkey babies that hop around on my back like that old George Michael song. And how they eventually tear me apart to get at my creativity, and then they feed me to all of the dried up artists in the world, and it brings about a Renaissance in pop culture art, but sadly I'm too dead to witness it.

I don't want to tell you about that song. It's too close to my heart.

I also don't know how to play the piano. That may be another deal breaker, but I want to be up front and honest with you. I can play some scales on the piano, and I can tell you which parts of the piano are real and which parts are imaginary. Aside from that, nothing.

I think that's all I need to confess to you. All of my principal visits are documented in my permanent record, which I'm sure you have a copy of.

signed


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