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Thursday, November 11, 2004

What a Day!

Dear Harriet,

You got some nerve, walking around calling yourself me. You've got me into a heap of trouble down at Scarmichael's Deli. Now they think I'm you, and that I eat corned beef. Corned beef! I haven't eaten corned beef in years. Tastes like shoes to me.

Big thanks for ruining my life. I can't walk by a church without some guy rushing out and kicking me in the seat of the pants, or dousing me with some kind of liquid. They all hate me now, all the religious. Like I'm going to bring 'em to hell with me. They can have heaven! You stink, Harriet! I know I'll be seeing you in hell.

I want my Ann-Margret record back. It's signed. I've a sneaking suspicion I'll never see it again. You got some nerve, Harriet. Stop telling people I drink alone.

My best to you and the family.

Esther

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Esther,

You'll get your skanky Ann-Margaret record back just as soon as you return my Sleepy LaBeef tapes. And you DO drink alone. Think back, Ester. The jug of Boone's Farm, your parents roof, the weeping obscenities, the call to the fire department. Just because you don't remember drinking alone doesn't mean that it never happens.

Harriet

10:34 AM  
Blogger Esther Wilberforce-Packard said...

Janice,
Stop pretending to be Harriet. I know your "voice." And in case you didn't know, Harriet has been in the hospital for the past week. Turns out she's having twins, but one won't come out. Every time the doctor tugs on it's leg, the baby yells "NO!"
Esther

12:02 PM  

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