This charming letter arrived in my inbox:
I know we've been through a lot together. Remember when we cheated Death?
Painted your hand white and told him that it was his slice of wedding cake? He
hated that. And you still have Death's tooth mark in that flabby bit of your
hand. I will buy you gloves so you can stop playing the role of the freak.
Because that's what friendship is all about. Do you know how many times I
think about you each day? In the shower? In the lobby of Radio City Music Hall?
During my self-pleasing lessons? Five times. Five times a day!!! That's more
times than you'll ever do anything good. I schedule a little time to think about
your smile, the way your lips move all over the place when you talk, the
annoying way you breathe, the naughty, naughty look in your eyes. It's like, I,
watching a documentary about, you, five times a day.
I am proud to be your friend. You turn me on. Your mannerisms always wipe
away the blood-drenched images that I otherwise think about. I wish I could stop
caring about you. But we vowed over shots of Rumple Minze to be there for
one another. Through the muck and the merriment.
And so I extend to you my virtual hand and ask you to marry me at the
crossroads of friendliness and human decency so we can come together as one organism.
I ask you to please join me and the band Life in a Blender for a show of
great importance at Joe's Pub (425 Lafayette St.) on Sunday, June 8th, at 7:30 pm.
You should be back from your weekend of wanton frolicking by then. Think of
the new horn section! Think of the new songs! Think of the things I might say!
You can buy a very cheap ticket at
LOVE )--( Don