And Then I Said, "Dude, Those Aren't Raisins!"

i don't write many handwritten letters, but a very serious subject has recently come to my attention and i must take drastic measures if i want this life-altering situation to be resolved.

recently, i sought the help of a certain "acquaintance" with whom i've desperately tried to disassociate myself. this "acquaintance" has an unmatched expertise with this type of thing.

i mailed the following letter last week:

dear facial hair,

i need a favor of you. could you, please, have a talk with scalp. he's been looking kind of sad lately. i think it may be due to his inability to... you know "produce". that sort of thing sure can bring a guy down. have you seen him lately? he's losin' it, man! so, i thought if you had a little talk with him, maybe you could coach him. give him a few pointers. i think maybe he might listen to you. i mean, look at you these days! you're a fucking beast! just help the little guy, will ya? please? he needs it. i don't know what else to do.

i'll owe you big time!

be well,
michael

in today's mail, i received a response:

baldy!

that sonofbitch!