Dear Fred-day.

I'm sorry I haven't written you in awhile, crazy shit has been going down. My grandfather died, and my dad had a heart attack and had to have an operation to clear out his artery.

He's Ok now, he's enjoying a new lease on life. He buying a lot of things he can't afford. A motorcycle, new computer.....He even tells me he's gonna buy a bass a learn to play it. Go DAD!

Anyways, I just want you to know that I am a piece of shit (news flash!) for not writing you sooner. And for punishment, I decided to get an apartment with Cheryl and sign a one year lease.

I know you're probably thinking "That's just going too far!" But c'mon.....I haven't written you in months. I deserve this!

So me and Ms. Mental are moving to Sandybrook Dr. Know where that is?

It's near where you used to live with Lynn. On a dead end street near Webster Bank.

See, I have to give a month's notice at my place now. So I won't be able to move in until August 1st. The landlord wanted to rent the place by July 1st, so Cheryl said she'd take the place on the 1st and pay for that month herself. Guess what? She's now calling me, leaving messages saying "I can't afford this!" and "You gotta pay something!"

Hey, save a bed for me in there. I'm gonna kill her even before we even move in!

But the place is nice, man.

Big place, with a washer and dryer. And check this out! A dishwasher!!!! I'm kinda' bummed about that a little bit, you know how much I like to do dishes. Maybe I can break it so I won't have to use it? That would be swell!

And it has three bedrooms too. So maybe if we're still living there when you get out, you can move in and help me strangle Cheryl.

But I doubt I'll be living with her that long.

We haven't even moved in together yet and we're already not speaking to each other. She has this notion that she's gonna' rule the place. There's a one car garage there, and she's already telling me that it's hers. She's taking me for a punk. I'm a nice guy, and she's just walking all over me.

Well, if I kill her and go to jail, you'll write me when you get out.......right?

But other then that, not much has been going on. You probably got more shit going on in there then I do out here.

Oh, I saw Andy! I was at a stag party for his cousin and Andy showed up. Fred....he weighs 210 lbs! No lie! He also lost a front tooth. He's looking like the fucking poster child for "Don't do drugs"

I swear, if he came to my school when I was 12, and saw what drugs do to people, I would have taken an "oath of purity" like one of Katie's boyfriends.

He's still on the methodone treatment. Any decade now he should be ready to get off.

So you got over a year clean, huh?

Who's the mother-fucking, ass-kickingest man?

Is it you??? I think it just fucking might be!

Hey, do me a fucking favor and stop being such an ass wipe and send me the fucking papers so I can come visit your ass. I suck at writting letters. If I was so fucking good at writting letters, I'd send them to girls, not you.

So send me the papers so I can come down there and have you kick my ass, OK?

Oh, I almost forgot. I went Toronto! It was pretty cool. I went with Mike. His band was playing up there at a music festival called North-by-Northeast. His fired his bass player and asked me to play with them. I told him I'd be honored to go to Toronto and rock the hell out of the Canadians. But the gig was pretty cool. They actually liked us. We played at a place called The Bovine Sex Club. You should of seen this place. It was wild. We should take a road trip up there when you get out.

So you have 35 months left, huh? That's not too bad. I was expecting 5 or 6.

I mean, they sentence you to a few years of sitting around watching TV?

Shit, I gave myself a life sentence of that. I didn't need anyone to do it for me.

But I better rest up, I have a feeling when you get out my front door is gonna' get kicked down at 6AM every morning, and I'm gonna' be dragged from my bed by my hair.

Looking forward to it.

I love you bro.

Send the fucking papers (so I can wipe my ass with them.)

-Genghis

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