Dear Sis,

I hope you had a great 4th of July! Your party sounded really bitchin’. I wish I could have been there to hear “Mel’s” tawdry confession. How does her hubby feel about her becoming a dude? Have you invited him ova so you and Robert could help “console” him? I would probably ask if he wanted to come ova and hang out and then give him a comforting blow job. Most ladies would probably make him comfort food, but I’d gladly give “Mella’s fella” a comfort blow.

Newsflash: We just moved to anotha neighbahood, I was so tired of all of my weird neighbah’s, I think they’re  all fucked up if you ask me.We moved into our new home, opps, I mean “dome”, about two weeks ago. I apologize for not telling you sooner, but I just had to get out of that neighbahood before I went medically and scientifically crazy. Those bitches need to grow up and quit being so judgmental of others (me). Jeese!

I‘ve been dying to tell you all about our first 4^th of July celebration in our new home; a “coming out” party if you will. I have purposefully stayed inside hiding from everyone since we moved in two weeks ago, until today, the fourth. I have been planning on making my debut so I can publicly showcase myself, as well as my talents. I’m fully aware that all of my neighbahs are wondering:“who’s that gal? Where did she come from? Who’s that gal? Where can I get one? Everyone around me will think that I’m……a……..star!!” Ok, ahem….I need to compose myself. I just took a hit off of my bong and I was thinking of a song from the early 80’s sensational hit movie, Grease 2. Do you remember that movie and how we just loved Michael and that awesome song that should have made the top 40 called We’re Gonna Score Tonight.Ahhh, I loved that song. 

During the past two weeks, my new set of nosey neighbors kept showing up at my front door to introduce themselves with their plates of crappy fudge. When they knocked on my door, I would quickly put on my John F. Kennedy mask, open a window, tell them to get the fuck out of here, but to leave the freebies on the porch. I made sure to collect these after dark to maintain my air of mystery. No one has seen me until today for which I am wearing my Uncle Sam suit for my debut. When I went to put on my Uncle Sam pants I realized my costume didn’t’ come with any because the rental place forgot to include them. I had to improvise by adding extra fabric to the bottom of some of my own pants. They were too short to accommodate my six foot tall stilts.

It was finally time for my bi-centennial debut. I set off down the street in full costume. For a proper introduction I  waved at everyone and mouthed, “I Want You” with a nice wink and point of the finger (Uncle Sam Style) at all of the young hotties on the block. At one point, I noticed that my beard and mustache had become partially detached. As I was trying to discreetly make my necessary repairs, I tripped and fell down in the cul de sac. “Goddammed stilts”, I yelled. I was so pissed and embarrassed. Would you believe, no one offered to help a damsel in distress. It took me a half an hour to stand myself back up again and when I finally got back up to standing, I looked down and saw my microphone lying in a pile of dog shit. And again, not one fucking soul offered to hand it to me. Alls I know is that I was planning a show for all of the children to watch during tonight’s fireworks extravaganza. I had been practicing a really neat chainsaw juggling act for the last three days. Assholes! If you can’t have faith in your neighbahs, then, wow I have to ask myself, what’s left? My plan was completely foiled.

Through all of my pain and anguish, lots of soul searching and a good ole fashioned cry,Joel and I conjured up a plan of action. We were out for revenge and we will not be fucked with. Joel said, “If you give me a rim job later, in the spirit of the Fourth of July, I’ll put on my George Washington suit and try to smooth things over with the neighbors”. That man had himself a deal. 

You will nevah guess what this beautiful man did in my honor. (Say the next sentence like a bitchy teenager) He took two of the chainsaws that had originally been reserved for my juggling act and went out and just cut off every branch, stem and leaf he could reach from every neighbah’s bushes and trees. At first I was in shock, but I quickly recovered. I quickly put on my stilts so I could reach the upper branches “George” couldn’t’ reach,and I grabbed the third chainsaw.I followed after him as quickly as a lady could wearing stilts and wielding a  chainsaw.

We had a night to remember, and so what if we ended up in jail, there are worse crimes than “treeicide” and “bushicide”.It was a crime of passion, so whoop de do. Afta we sat there a few hours in the slammah, the bondsmon (hey mon!) finally showed, but not before Joel was forced to give the arresting officer a backrub with his own shit. YUCK – yeah, I know. We made good by paying our bail and went home. What a night! Lucky for us, we weren’t that unpacked yet so it didn’t take us long to get the hell out of that damn dome neighbahood.

We’ve returned to our original dwelling, (home sweet home). I first set out to make nice with all of the  neighbahood ladies. I did this by saying, “I I I I feel really bad…for…what I did…” to each one. I used the same exact line on each woman. I knew I had to apologize, even though I didn’t really mean it, for all the wrongs and whatnots that have happened throughout the years if I expected to be accepted back in their evil circle. If you remember, we have fooled around with all of their husbands; I think you and Robert had a few of them too during your last visit. I took it one step further by offering each lady a gift. When we returned home we found some catalogues waiting for us in the mailbox. I thought they would enjoy selecting a gift for themselves to make up for any hurt feelings. The only thing I asked of them was that the cost of the gift had to stay under ten dollars. I hesitantly told them, in my phony, stuttering apologetic voice, that if it was over ten dollars, they had to pay me back the diff when I dropped off the gift. They all looked at me like I was offering them a head on a plate, so I really reached out to them by asking them ova for a dinner party.

I need to go start the Celebration Salad,but if there’s is one thing I have learned through all of this, is that you just never know how good you have it until you don’t anymore. I think Joel and I are just blessed with the best neighbahs anyone could eva  ask for, and I’m sure they feel really lucky to have us back in the neighbahood. Aside from you and me, who offers gifts like that these days anyway? What has our world come to, I ask myself.

During dinner, I was so thrilled at how well things were going, so I subtly suggested that we all form a neighbahood club togetha. Some suggested knitting – fuck that. Some suggested a book club – I almost blew it by suggesting we only read erotica, but I quickly caught myself and redirected them to the idea of a massage club. I sold them on the idea that it would be only used as a stress relievah. I thought a really neat name for it would be the, “Happy Endings Massage Club”. A good massage always leads to happy ending.In these days of uncertainty, we could use a few happy endings.

I have to go, but I’m not finished telling you everything that has happened since the dinna party. It’s so funny.

That’s what’s been going on here. Nothing out of the ordinary, you know – same old, same old.
And by the way, I hope that since it was the Fourth of July, you at least ate some American cheese for God’s sakes.
Love,

Sis
I almost forgot, here are your Jams, Jellies and preserves. :

1) A Fruity Invasion

2)  Freedom, It’s not…(grape)

3)  Presidential Cherry Bomb