#61

 

January 22, 2007

Matthew,

Have you seen my husband? I came home from work last night and all the lights were off and the children were gone. The only thing out of place was a skateboard laying in our front yard. No note, no explanation of any kind. Just a skateboard. And I know for a fact judging by how he is in bed that his fat ass isn’t coordinated enough to use a skateboard, so I want to know what the hell is going on. He tells you more than he tells me, so I know for a fact you know where he is and who he is with.

Don’t make this difficult on me. Just give me his whereabouts so I can make sure the children are ok. You can keep my husband. I think this is the last time he is ever going to pull this shit with me.

Regards,

Samantha McCollum

#66

 

January 28, 2007

Matthew,

If I could have one super power of my choice, I would pick the ability to make anyone crap their pants. I can’t think of a single situation where it wouldn’t be useful: at work, out on the town, school, church, the emergency room. I could be like a hit man, taking money in exchange for “contract crappings:” bullies, business rivals, ex-lovers, lovers, clergymen, evil dictators. Of course, I would have to set aside time for pranks as well: marriage proposals, American Idol auditions, people who just got finished taking a dump. Naturally, this kind of ability wouldn’t exactly make me a “superhero” per se, but to hundreds of thousands of people, I would be “the guy who made [insert name] crap their pants.”

Love,

Pete

 

#68

 

January 31, 2007

Matthew,

When I think about you, I touch myself. I’m in biology class and I’m touching myself under my desk. Oh yeah. Feels great. Touch touch touch. You light my fire, Matthew.

Pete

#70

 

February 2, 2007

Matthew,

Today school is closed because of snow. I work at the school, so I have no class and I don’t have to go to work. I’m going to take this cardboard sign that I have and slide down my driveway on it. That sounds pretty fucking sweet.

I had leftover barbecued ribs and an energy drink for breakfast. That was pretty fucking sweet, too. This day is going to be pretty fucking sweet.

Your pretty fucking sweetheart,

Pete

#84

 

February 25, 2007

Matthew,

Some days all there is to eat is tilapia. On those days, you eat that fucking tilapia and you eat it with a smile on your face.

Your aunt,

Pete

#86

 

February 27, 2007

Matthew,

I realized something today: I am a complete idiot.

Call me,

Pete

#127

 

April 14, 2007

Matthew,

Today is the big day: Sabado Gigante on Telemundo. Do I even need to say any more? I’m going to get some tacos and a piñata. It’s Sabado, Matthew. You have to cut loose like Don Francisco. Dance a little. Sing a song about toothpaste. Steal the Chacal’s trumpet and smack the dancers on the booty.

Ole,

Pete