LOST AND FOUND: THE SCREW(TAPE) LETTERS

I was going through my sizable inbox and found some correspondance with an old friend. We were just getting to know each other at the time. It was the Christmas '03 break (the year that Lord of the Rings III came out). For your amusement and because I haven't posted in a while, here are a few Blasts from my Not-so-noble Past: correspondance from me to Jay.

Sat, 20 Dec 2003
Verbal tennis is tricky when Hemingway's the ref.

Firstly -- Hemmingway points for use of the word "aficionado" in a complete, correctly spelled entence.

>> Note that I did not spell "Hemingway" correctly. Jay will correct this in his responsorial email.

Secondly, I've found that it isn't -books- that lie so much as the white-bearded, overly righteous old men that write them.

Although you've never been to NJ, I may soon be able to give you and others a small taste - a couple friends and I are going to undertake the Great Wawa Odyssey, in which we visit, in succession, every WaWa in eastern NJ, buy something and take pictures, and then post our voyage logs on the web. Look forward to it.

Good work extracting those CDs ... it's a delicate process with a chick as ... um, outgoing and assertive*cough* as Kristina, the secret love of my life. Extra Hemmingway points for doing so without the use of heavy artillery. Actually ... no ... Ernest would SUBTRACT points for the LACK of heavy artillery. Sorry, kiddo.

RotK was ... How shall I say it? I've been wandering around NJ like a lost lamb all day, wondering what to do with myself now that IT is all over. I feel like Peter Jackson's coming out with anoher one next year, y'know? It was an awesome movie, but it's still a little sad. The end of a cinematic epoch for me, or (insert something equally trite and inane here), or ... something.

In any case ... enjoy Flint - if it's as akin to New Jersey as you claim, then I bid you appreciate the barren landscapes and the aromatic fuel emissions to their fullest ... it'll make you love Cozumel all the more.

Merry F'ing Christmas, Katie

Sun, 21 Dec 2003
To Whom It May Concern, or 'Monologue for Angry Fangirl'

Dear Sir,

On behalf of the Committee for the Worship of LotR Icons, I fear me we must inform you that referring to Legolas, aka "The Insanely Badass Surfer Elf" as a, and I quote paragraph six of your last correspondence, 'chick', will not be tolerated. If seeing Legolas nonchalantly slay 20 of the enemy before pausing to flick his perfect hair and pose for the camera is not enough to convince you of his manhood then we suggest you keep your ignorance to yourself, else we be forced to pull a Fury and tear you limb from blasphemous limb. How dare you impeach the dignity of the Surfer Elf, with his manly wardrobe of fine silks and his masculine features of elven androgyny? Can't an elf keep his girlish figure and maintain close relations with a churlish dwarf without it causing an unfounded scandal?

You sick bastard.

The Committee is dedicated to keeping the Badass Surfer Elf's name unblemished by such libel and slander at the hands of the Great Unwashed, so that we ourselves may rape the fictional character in his purest form, as Tolkien intended.

Good day to you,
Katherine Montgomery, President

Postscript:

Ha-HAH! 59 million Google results can't be wrong, because the Internet never has and never WILL lie to me! No, Ernest, I don't care WHAT your legal name was, the proletariat has spoken! Thaaaat's right, go back to hitting your little yellow ball back and forth, here's your whiskey, gooood boy. Go play with Fitzgerald, go play! Good little drunken spokesman for the Lost Generation, good Ernest!

Also - YOU weep for my unrequited love?! YOU weep?! What about my futile tears? What about MY thriftless sighs? Oh, Kristina, if only you knew about the hours I spend fishing your used tooth floss from the waste basket ... the days I've spent pining over your half-finished protein shakes ... and remember that time your English notes went missing? Remember how they returned to you ironed and perfumed? Yes, dearest love, yes -- it was all me! I confess! Bless me, Jay, for I have sinned ...

By the by, I'm not all that familiar with the previous residents of our humble abode ... but apparently, everyone else I know is somehow connected - though I must say, your link is the closest so far. ;)

Stay safe and enjoy your reunion - I'm having one of my own tomorrow with an old friend from Massachusetts - one of those shifty musician types, or as my father likes to put it, "hobos posing as productive members of society". Kinda makes ya warm and fuzzy inside, don't it?

Anyway. Enjoy yourself and the restorative airs of Flint.

- Katie

Tue, 23 Dec 2003

In Which Hemmingway Is Not Mentioned Once, Except For Just Now

Goodly sir,

The Sidekick commercial made me realize something the first time I saw it. It made me realize that commercials are the work of an evil mad scientist, devoted to sapping my faith in society until it is replaced entirely by bitter regret and the urge to destroy.

As you were handicapped by your thumbs-only Sidekick, so am I, in turn, handicapped by a second-degree burn on my left hand that makes typing rather difficult. How, you may ask, did I acquire this freakishly large blister (roughly the size and thickness of my thumb)? Well, my friend, that is a long and arduous tale best left for a fireside camp - but since you ask, let me say only that there was a great battle between the forces of good (my hand) and the forces of evil (the stove), and that the forces of good were temporarily out-manuevered.

The Committee for the Worship of LotR Icons accepts your petition for entry but regrets to inform you that it is an elected position and your continued insistence upon the Badass Surfer Elf's homosexual tendencies may reflect poorly in the ballot.

Your proposal that I consider a career as a professional anime fanbabe has not fallen upon deaf ears. I mean, what young maiden DOESN'T dream of being groped by long- and greasy-haired hermits wearing black "The Truth Is Out There" T-shirts smeared with potato chip crumbs? What self-respecting girl doesn't look forward to many years of pretending to still be in middle school in order to perpetuate the pedophilic tendencies of said reclusive fanboys? And, as you said, nothing says "awesome fringe benefits" like being constantly asked, not for your number, but for your IRC screen-name, by men over 30 who have obviously never known a woman's touch. Still, I think I'll stick to writing satirical articles for anime fanzines in exchange for anime DVDs instead. It allows me to FEEL like an anime crackwhore with decidedly less effort and a smaller stalker contingent. Though, y'know, there have been a couple cons where I was too lazy to secure/poor to afford a hotel room and had to do my snoozing in the late-night Hentai screening room ... ugh. That is NO place for a semi-conscious young girl, lemme tell you, and you always leave with a few sketchy stains on your outfit and NO recollection of how they got there. *Shudder.*

Your Gak allusion brought back such fond memories for me. I LOVED that stuff when I was a kid ... it stuck in my brother's hair something awesome and it took LYE to get that motherfucking colored pus out. OOOOHH yeah. I'm sorry to hear about your mini-aneurism, though the Gak part certainly does recall warm fuzzies.

"Life throws you cookies, and you must bite. Nay, you must devour!"
VS.
"If you bite and devour one another, take care lest you be consumed by one another." -
Gal. 5:15, Bible
Hmmm. I could analyze this. I could step up onto my little pulpit and say, "Now, O captive congregation mine, Jay has just made an obvious error in Western philosophy - the error of assuming that zealous behvior of any kind is advantageous, and that the likewise lack of action is appropriate. It is the way of all things New Testament ... Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Pun intended. Bitches." Then they would clap for fear of my awesome, swelling, pulsing intellect and my maniacal laughter would drown out that thund'rous applause ....

In other news, 1)I have absolutely no clue where your whiskey is, and if I did, it wouldn't be YOUR whiskey anymore. 2)I cannot be held responsible for the consequences of ironing and perfuming your pants. If you really want to be the newest fruit for harvest in the orchard of life, then bring on the Clinique, baby.

I assume you're in Chicago by now, and probably drunk to the point of incapacitation, so I beg you to leave all rubber chickens and fireworks in a safe somewhere and for the love of the chocolate-covered Internet do NOT, I repeat do NOT pick up that prostitute just because he reminds you of Orlando Blume in a cheesy blonde wig.

May the Force go with you, my young Padawan.

-Katie