empty house/Letter 16

The old house is empty. I finished moving crap from it last night. Now, sadly, all the crap is in our new house. We seriously need a yard sale. My father-in-law once said, "three moves equals one fire." I used to think that he meant the damage that you do in moving is so bad that after three moves your stuff is as badly damaged as it would be from a fire. Now I think that he means that after three moves you have accumulated so much worthless crap that you'd be better off just burning your house down and starting over.

In case any Insurace Underwriters are out there reading this, that last sentence was a literary device called hyperboli. It was not premeditation.

Ok, the following letter, number 16 for Campaign 2, was the last letter of the campaign. It's a good letter, I guess, but it's not the kind of letter that should end a campaign. I know you are disappointed in me. Eat it.

Letter 16:

Dear [adult swim],

Ok, several of my letters will be delayed in coming because I have been conducting training in Valdosta. When I was asked what cities I wouldn't mind traveling to for these trainings I said Athens, anywhere in metro Atlanta, and Savannah. I guess Valdosta is Savannah. Here I always thought they were different places.

I stayed at the Knights Inn just off of I-75. I highly unrecommend it. What a piece of crap. I was going to take pictures with my digital camera so that I could send them to people and they could say, "Wow, that really sucks," but my camera refused to take the pictures.

The lock on the door was busted. I don't want to talk about the beds. And I absolutely refused to take my socks off.

The toilets were so bad I couldn't bring myself to use them. I would rather have taken a dump in the sink and pushed it down the drain with my hands than to have sat on that toilet seat. It was not a good scene, unless you don't believe in hepatitis. When I got to the training facility I ducked into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face and hands.

This morning I figured that since I had tempted fate with my temporary housing and lived, I could probably also survive McDonalds. Every time I eat at McDonalds I am reminded of why I want to die.

While I was waiting in the drive through I saw three pigeons pecking at the remains of an Egg McMuffin that someone wisely tossed out their window. They were bickering about the quality of the food and comparing it to the garbage in the I-HOP parking lot.

Pigeon 1: This crap is crap. Let's go back to I-HOP.
Pigeon 2: It's too far. I'd rather take my chances here.
Pigeon 1: It's just across the street. We have wings. Why don't you ever want to use your wings?
Pigeon 2: It's dangerous. I had a friend who died that way.
Pigeon 1: You mean Rob? He was hit by a bus.
Pigeon 2: While he was flying.
Pigeon 1: He was an imbecile.
Pigeon 3: Shut up and eat. Dammit.

A few seconds passed in silence while I waited for the window attendant to remember that she needed to hand out my 'food.'

Pigeon 2: Have you guys seen the Da Vinci Code?
Pigeon 1: I saw it. What a load of crap. I can't believe people believe that junk.
Pigeon 2: What are you talking about, it was great. And it's all true too. I saw a report on the Internet.
Pigeon 3: You two are f*ing idiots. I'm going to I-HOP.

signed
May 22, 2006