Postcards

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"Hey Bret,
Remember last summer, when you tried to score with that sixteen year old at the fair and she puked all over your lap on the ferris wheel? HA ha, this chick totally looks like her, so I had to get you this postcard. Call soon, your dad looks BAD. I think he's got the same thing you got. Love, Brian."

I don't get down to LA as often as I'd like, but that's no reason to let Bret have a break from my ruthless onslaught of awful.
Not when postcards can be bought and mailed so cheaply.

I like to think that by the end of this tirade of US Govt delivered chintz Bret was praying for a letter bomb which he'd happily sign for, even paying any postage due just to be out of his misery.

The great thing about the postcards is that Bret lives in an apartment building where his mail is on display for all to see. From his neighborhood mail carrier to his neighbors and his landlord, my messages would be shared. And luckily he has one particularly nosey and gossipy neighbor who we KNOW looks at everybody's mail.

"Hey Bret, How's it going? Does your brother know about the little incident between you and his girlfriend yet? Dude, you were drunk, it doesn't count. I mean hell, if two bottles of Jack between one dude and two cute chicks ain't a get out of jail free card WTF is, yeah? Let's just hope you didn't share you're "Surprise" with her. Speaking of which, the ointment you recommended is working fine. Thanks. Peace, Sissy Regina.

PS: Dig the lesbian bikers man. Totally thought of you and those two "girls" who kicked your ass in S.C. (LOL!)"


"Hey, it IS porn okay. Art? You got to be kidding me. I love you man, but you need help. Until then stay the hell away from me and my family. Sorry, but there's certain shit that crosses the line. Art. Shit. Give me a f'ing break.
Sincerely,
Pablo
BTW: You want to know what art is? Get rid of that shit and hang this postcard on your wall man."


"Bret,
You still got that ass-hat landlord?
How many times can you rip off the same stupid son of a bitch before he catches on that it's an "inny" job. Seriously buddy, you might be pushing your luck. Getting locked up in here with me would serve you right, since you never visit, jerk.
Sincerely, Frank"

To fully appreciate this last one you should know, Bret's landlord is about 6' 7" and capable of snapping Bret like a twig. Love ya Bret.