Dear Overly Processed Meat,

I'm going to bet my big bouncy butt that anyone and everyone is going to think that they know what I'm writing about and who I am writing to. Of course, you could never actually know for sure who I am writing about, unless I tell you. But that's the whole fantastic point of it. To get you to think without a shadow of a doubt that I am writing to you, about you, around you, and all over you just to get you so paranoid that you can't stand it.

It's fabulous.

I play with words, throw in a few descriptions, and voila! The whole world comes to but one conclusion, that they know what I am writing about. Don't you think it's interesting how easily people can jump to conclusions? ...Wrong or otherwise. Well, I think it's amusing. I can sit here in front of my laptop, type whatever the heck I want to, conjure some fancy schmancy story of the most ridiculous kind and someone out in the shadows will suddenly raise their hands and say "Hey!!! Hey, wait a minute! You're writing about me!!!".

Like I said... Fabulous.

Not that I blame them... It's a trick that I've managed to perfect over the past few years. To write to no one specific and at the same time everyone in general. And yes, I do find great joy in piqueing people to the point of hilarity. It's gorgeousy satirical.

A perfect symphony that is playing melodiously in the background of my mind. Or a beautiful lace veil weaved carefully so as to hide what the real point is from the people who don't bother to look beyond the veil or hear beyond the music.

As I end this, I know that you are probably asking yourself but one question and one question alone. "Why?". And of course to that question there is only one answer and one answer alone... There are no reasons. There is no reason. I'm eccentric and I write eccentrically.

For all you know, I could just be winging this. Because believe it or not I've also perfected the art of typing up words one after the other whilst making no absolute sense, but at the same time being absolutely deep. Hence the disclaimer on the front page...

"Take everything I write with a grain of salt, chances are I was drunk when I wrote them"

Am I drunk now? Not really, but of course no drunk person would ever admit to their drunken debauchery. So you can never actually know for sure... Just like you could never know for sure who I'm writing to and what I'm writing about... But I'm going to bet my big bouncy butt that you will still believe otherwise. Haha.

It's fabulous. Absolutely fabulous.


As Always,
D.