Hey Lady,

   So… how’s jail? Can’t be all that great. But, hey, maybe it is… Fingers crossed.

Anyway, diving right in, I have something important to disclose to you. For some time, well, ever since you started writing me, I’ve been taking advantage of your being locked up by posting our letters to a paid subscription service and profiting on your pain to the tune of five dollars a month per subscribed user. I know this probably comes as a cutting admission, maybe even to the extent you feel it deep down in upturned guts you’re already concerned with protecting from any given objects sharpened into weapons, but I decided it’s finally time I come clean.

   I understand this might come as a shock, but maybe you can take some solace in knowing you aren’t alone, because my attempts to drum up cash and become popular at someone’s expense didn’t end there. I even went so far as to try recruiting another Brian Dykeman to put his finger in the pie and write you too. However, when he decided he wasn’t interested in taking part in something he saw as inappropriate, deceptive and ultimately unkind way to treat another human being, I went ahead and began posting those letters without letting him know also.

   Kinda messed up, right? And this was someone I knew before you.

   A friend. Someone that also shares my name.

   But I sacrificed it all for the sake of additional subject matter.

   Only recently did I begin to consider what a karmic kettle of fish these sociopathic aims were and from them the additional psychological hardship they could impose upon you. With that in mind, I decided it was time I address my actions for all those concerned. If for nothing else, because I’d really hate to cause someone so much grief I couldn’t so much as sit across from them at a table for something as simple as breaking bread.

*(Note One)

   I don’t know about you, but I don't do well in uncomfortable situations. I once went on a date with what might be called an “über-feminist;” you know the sort aiming to usurp male position within humanity instead of advocating for female equality within said structure, and the date was so bad thanks to her defeatist gerrymandering it negatively influenced how I positively saw women for some time after, perhaps even still. Anyway, it also didn't help that because the situation was so uncomfortable and I haven’t since seen her, she’s still in possession of several knives I brought to the date and presented to her as a cute joke. (so as to be sharpened by a Japanese friend of hers she told me honed a good edge, to 

be clear; of whom I also referred to as a “Samauri,” if I wasn’t culturally insensitive enough already.) The cherry on top was her taking the cherry from the Roy Rogers I ordered after having told me she couldn’t eat processed foods. I mean there was a sheer audacity to it. 

   First of all, that’s my cherry, but she’s going to use the fact she’s a lady -albeit of the wrongly self-professed, (uber) feminist type- and I’m a chivalrous gent, and going to put me between soup and a scone to tell her, “No, you can’t have the cherry from my drink.”(? )

   Second… it was a processed food and she just got done telling me she couldn’t eat them without having an allergic reaction. Not that I wouldn’t have derived a little pleasure from jabbing her with an overpriced epi pen in the meaty portion of the thigh for imposing such a trespass at that point. Especially since she allowed me to pay for the entire meal. (Real feminism being about equality, as it were.) 

   Anyway, I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from. You aren't dumb, so I’ll try not to play Pattycake here with you about all of this from here on out. As I’m sure you know, there's a certain amount of the rambling I can typically infuse into my writing if I’m not careful. Listen to me; sounding quite lofty in my patter as if to butter you up and pander to you for 

my divisive actions. And now, here, my making mention of said buttery patter and pander as if to curry favor. My making mention of making mention of it too. Et al infinitum.

*(Note Two)

   As if it’s any wonder girls in general make minced meat out of me.

   Hey, perhaps; and don’t quote me on this, I’m not a professional psychologist, but maybe that’s part of the reason I went about using your letters the way I did. Like the way a person uses apple sauce as a substitute for cookie shortening. They have the best intentions for cutting fat, but it’s a bad full baked, half baked idea that benefits no one, especially since something so repulsive isn’t going to be eaten anyway.

*(Note Three)

   Anyway, now that I’ve eaten some crow, removed a bit of egg from my face, and laid everything on the table, as such, I want to leave you with my warmest, humble pied regards and sincerest apology for my actions. I was truly ham fisted in my handling of everything and if I had it to do all over again I wouldn’t have been such a salty bad apple.

*(Note Four)

 

 

 

Also, didn't mean to be so food focused.
-Brian

 

(Note One)

(Here you can follow with the “artistic representation” of the previously mentioned bread loaf with the heels sliced off and a caption that reads: (Nobody likes a “heel.”))

(Note Two)

(Here you can follow with a drawing of like a stack of three, grey, beef patties with a triangular slice taken out so you can see the inside is red velvet cake, to give the effect of rare insides. With maybe a yellow fondant cheese square on the top. You get where I’m coming from right? A (Beef) patty cake. It’s a play on words. [Oh, and add a cherry on top for good measure. It would be an obvious and missed opportunity if you didn’t.] with a caption that reads: (“I play by Atkin’s rules.”) You know, to allude to the cake having no buns.)

(Note three)

(Here do some kind of drawing referring to minced meat. Perhaps a representation of the patty cake in a devastated heap having been destroyed by a fencing sword. A “Foil” I guess it’s called; it just came to me. With a caption that reads: (When someone jumps the “fence” and ruins the party))? [Oh, and add a cherry stem with some remaining rind; as if it’s been eaten, leaving behind just the stem might not convey it’s a cherry stem to the passive eye.]

(Note Four)

(No need follow here with an artistic representation of cookies with apple sauce for shortening. They look the exact same as regular cookies even though evil incarnate resides within. Unless you want to add a caption such as: Who could tell the sort of evil residing within?” or “You never actually thought you’d wish for cyanide”) Yeah, better to just leave it blank now that I think about it.)

 

 

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CHANNILLO

Brian(e)'s 7th Letter to Brian(w): Food Focused (Letter 2)
Series Info | Table of Contents

 Hey Lady,

   So… how’s jail? Can’t be all that great. But, hey, maybe it is… Fingers crossed.

Anyway, diving right in, I have something important to disclose to you. For some time, well, ever since you started writing me, I’ve been taking advantage of your being locked up by posting our letters to a paid subscription service and profiting on your pain to the tune of five dollars a month per subscribed user. I know this probably comes as a cutting admission, maybe even to the extent you feel it deep down in upturned guts...

Please subscribe to keep reading.

Table of Contents

Series Info