Hey... Brother,

First and foremost, I can't say I really remember ever telling you, let alone thinking my life wasn't interesting. Also, I know...

 

Hey... Brother,
First and foremost, I can't say I really remember ever telling you, let alone thinking my life wasn't interesting. Also, I know you like doing it, but I don't know how many times I can to tell you that 'I'm not Nuclear Physicist.' By you asking me questions specific to that field of study you are basically asking questions I'm, not necessarily unable to answer, but simply don't want to. And as the Brian Dykeman of the East, I reserve the right to hold those cards as close to the work vest as possible.

That being said, I'm an electrician. And sure, while this particular job field has from time to time found me working on nuclear equipment, it, again, by no means makes me a Nuclear Physicist. As a matter of fact, right now I'm by and large working on radar equipment, so what I really have to worry about is equipment that transmits high strength micro and radio waves. Elements that are invisible and dangerous in their own right,

but different than radiation that would come from nuclear elements like plutonium or uranium. I also don't recall you ever telling me a story about a box of cornflakes filled with chocolate milk that you took with you to a lumber yard. It seems like you only mentioned that in order to get me to ask you about it. In which case, I won't be doing. Also, I can't imagine you would have been able to pour very much chocolate milk into a full box of Corn Flakes without them quite suddenly pushing up and out. This leads me to believe if you made that story up, you probably also made up the one about a peer throwing a computer from a car and your friend from Iowa welding a fifth wheel hitch into the trunk of a low powered Oldsmobile. In regards to that story specifically I think that all sounds like an entire waste of money, time and welding talent.

Either way, even if those stories were true, they still wouldn't hold a sugar cookie scented

candle to even some of my more lighthearted and overly vanilla tinged events that occur in my life, So, I certainly don't need your crazy ass sending me pittance in order to spice things up. Oh, don't even get me started on the company Christmas Party. There isn't any amount of smores you radiated over a nuclear reactor that could compare to the sorts of shenanigans happening at even some o fhte more conservative workshops operating at the shipyard. My own work shop is a bakers dozen of shellbacks that make a point of initiating any pollywogs that may exist in the shop. In which case a Little Tikes brand Green Turtle sandbox is brought in and filled with vodka infused Jellow Pistachio pudding. Fire hoses are also turned on in order to properly emulate the highly regarded rite of passage.

Foregoing further elaboration of events that will remain top secret, the shop is consistently filled with free booze and at least one stripper to satiate the horny shellbacks. Should a Pollywog initiation be taking place they are assigned to

the stripper's servants for the evening, placating to a little light S&M. This year was without a pollywog so a Liquid nitrogen icecream station, chocolate fountain, and door prizes were brought it. Last year we even had Season three of Wings projected onto the wall in background. I fucking hate Joe Hackett.

All that said, I would be glad to write to the inmate you mentioned. But not because I feel the need to satiate my own ego that my letter will be read more studiously by a down on their luck individual, but because it's a nice thing to do.

Boom! I'm just Joking you, Guy! Of course I remember the classic stories you told. But seriously, stop calling me a Nuclear Physicist. I also wouldn’t have a prescription pad of I was one.

Anyway, send me the woman's address. I'm

also writing a neighbor who is in Afghanistan. Maybe they'll be interested in writing also. Take their mind off all the opium raids and the welding of seized weapons caches into Game of Thrones-esque... Well, ‘Thrones’ I guess you could say.

Semper, Killer.

-Brian (East) Dykeman

Oh, Blimp's was closed. But I found Sammy at the Farm Fresh on Main. No Horsey so I went home, mixed up some Chi-Com hot must' pow with agua and slathered it on to open me sighs.

Thanks again for the tip. 

Sammy proved excellent!

P.S. I was really missing a Tennis allegory in my life. Especially since finishing Infinite Jest.

East meets West; High Pressure meets Low: The Perfect Storm
East meets West. High Pressure collides with Low; the Perfect Storm

 

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CHANNILLO

Brian (e)'s First Letter to Brian (w)
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Today on 'Carcerated Grammar'

Hey... Brother,

First and foremost, I can't say I really remember ever telling you, let alone thinking my life wasn't interesting. Also, I know...

 

Hey... Brother,
First and foremost, I can't say I really remember ever telling you, let alone thinking my life wasn't interesting. Also, I know you like doing it, but I don't know how many times I can to tell you that 'I'm not Nuclear Physicist....

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