Dear Mrs. Ashtoefore,
Thank you for the wonderful porcelain fruit bowl from Spain! It was well crafted and Jennifer didn't "have an accident" when she saw it like last time up at the lake. I can see it was crafted by experts and that you paid a lot of money for it. The bowl was smashed up when it arrived, though, and we were wondering if you intended for us to receive it this way? What should we do with it? Do you want it back? We're very confused and hold you responsible. I was shaking the package and a few pieces fell down into my face and cut my eyelids, cheeks, nose, and lips... I was cut and bled for about three hours. But it was okay because I put on some Willy Nelson and drank three-quarters of a bottle of mop-n-glo.
Remember our gerbil, Phyllis? She committed suicide! Yup. Electrocuted herself with two toothpicks and a nine-volt battery. I didn't think that was possible. My old literature professor says that it's a metaphor for defiance against necessitated societal power structures... I say sometimes a gerbil just goes over and there's no looking back, no matter how many prayers you've said, even the ones you say when you're gettin' pounded from behind.
I have worms again, but the pictures are in color this time! Jennifer made cole slaw for dinner and is out late every night getting her cooter flossed by the Smith boy, the one from over Bayfield. The parrots have loaded the trebuchet with that mixture of suet and goat beer and can't wait for the home game.
We miss you so much... But we are so happy you aren't visiting because pretty honestly you're a really dirty old slut and we don't want the kids to look up to you or be influenced by you in any way! Whore.