These circulated emails are a bit vexing… and for those who know me, I typically don’t like passing these things along. More than anything else it is a wound to my creative pride… “Why couldn’t I think of that?” or “Gee… that really is clever, I should have thought of it first…” <\/p>\n
And another thing… for you email\/PC junkies out there (and I love you all), it’s hard to believe, given my general slowness, that you haven’t already seen what I am sending… <\/p>\n
So be it… Anyway, my friend and colleague extraordinaire, Mr. Euro Holt, forwarded me this… very funny stuff for a guy who graduated from Brown and who thinks that Eastern European women are attractive. <\/p>\n
I pass it along to you with my seal of approval. <\/p>\n
Love to you all… and where appropriate Happy Mother’s Day.<\/em> <\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n <\/p>\n A mother enters her daughter’s bedroom and sees a letter over the bed. With a terrible premonition, she reads it with trembling hands: <\/p>\n Dear Mom: <\/p>\n It is with great regret and sorrow that I’m telling you that I eloped with my new boyfriend. He is so nice, but I know you would never approve of his piercing and tattoos and his big motorcycle. But it’s not only that, Mom, I’m pregnant. Ahmed said that we will be very happy in his trailer in the woods. He wants to have many more children with me and that’s one of my dreams. I’ve learned that marijuana doesn’t hurt anyone, and we’ll be growing it for us and his friends. They promise to provide us with all the cocaine and Ecstasy we could ever want. In the meantime, we’ll pray for science to find the cure for AIDS so Ahmed can be well again. He deserves it. Please don’t worry, Mom. I’m 16 now and I know how to take care of myself. Some day I’ll visit so you can meet your grandchildren. <\/p>\n Your daughter, PS: Mom, it’s not true. I’m at the neighbor’s house. <\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" These circulated emails are a bit vexing… and for those who know me, I typically don’t like passing these things along. More than anything else it is a wound to my creative pride… “Why couldn’t I think of that?” or … Continue reading
Judith <\/p>\n
I just wanted to show you that there are worst things in life than the report card in my desk drawer. I love you! Call when it is safe for me to come home. <\/p>\n