March 5, 10:04 AM
Dear Philip Sir,
Bud! Horrors! I’m delighted we have now established the correct tone. You could proceed to correspond with me should you really feel it exalts you ultimately. You shouldn’t at all times count on to listen to from me in an expedient trend. I’m engaged on a prolonged indictment of the twenty first century, and this “electronic mail” is my first goal. What could possibly be extra insulting to us working boys than to have our consideration demanded in any respect hours of the day and night time by these digital notifications informing us that we have now acquired correspondence from somebody who has acquired our handle by typically unsavory means. Someone as soon as posted my email correspondence handle to an internet site entitled “asshats.com.” I ought to maybe refer myself to your “law office” so as to obtain ample and overdue compensation for the various medical visitations necessitated by somebody’s vicious intuition to make public my private handle. Each time I opened these digital messages from guests to “asshat.com,” my valve would slam shut. Often, I needed to miss per week of labor merely because of the indignities rendered upon me by my valve. Though I used to be not happy with your overly acquainted tone, I need to say that I used to be relieved to obtain an email correspondence from somebody who, in actual fact, appears to have learn my work and never somebody merely mocking the picture of me with my scorching canine cart posted to “asshats.com” I can not think about the undesirables who’re visiting such an internet site regularly, however I’ll say that such wicked specimens absolutely couldn’t comprehend the scope of my very own challenge which does typically certainly contain rendezvousing with a scorching canine distribution carriage.
I might proceed, expensive Philip, however my palms have at this second been seized by a illness which has rendered them frozen into the claw-like shapes this private laptop keyboard forces them to contort into. I’m now typing this missive with one finger, and if I don’t cease quickly, I shall miss my lunch, which does atrocious issues to my valve. I imagine I hear Mother making a cheese dip.
Sincerely,
Ignatius J. Reilly
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