Stop me if you've heard this one...

Dearest G,

I must start out by explaining my fleeted urination. The key is…you don’t have to wash your hands EVERY time…I mean no one will know, and it makes you look like you have a super talent. It’s much easier said that done for some, but in my case it’s easy. I wear rubber gloves 24 hours a day, so even if I leak through the half roll of toilet paper I use, my hands stay clean and all I have to do is change those bitches and I’m on my way…you see you are no less of a human than I, I just have worse hygiene than most. But I can still amaze you and that’s all that matters.

Now that the cat’s out of the bag…comparing the moments we shared in an upscale ritzy neighborhood with hidden treasures like that store to the best years of our lives is purely an understatement. I’d like to begin with reminding you of a small reason why you don’t remember how to find the little store. After you got accused of holding the place up, pissed yourself and ruined my brand new beaded seat covers, the owner of the place was investigated and it was found that he not only owned one sawed off shot gun, but he was dealing arms out of the back of the place and that apartment above it you may ask? It was used to hold swingers parties for all those uptight residents that we liked to call “neighbors” back then. The place is closed my friend and I think you should take some pride in being the match that burnt it to the ground. Even if you did wet your pants like a thousand times after that just remembering the horror of the event:



We all have flaws, yours make you beautiful, inside and out.

Sleeping at 3 pm was a highlight. Remember that one time I thought you were hovering over me, but you told me to go back to sleep because it was a dream? That was weird huh? Anywho…Monday night TV will never be the same, and I’d like to thank you for always eating with the fork…it never failed that every Monday I just “happened” to run out of spoons. It wasn’t at all the fact that watching someone eat pudding with a fork is entertaining to someone like me. You’re a good sport. And you make a mean cupcake.

I enjoyed your little ode to us a la photographs so much that I thought I'd like to share some of the finer points that I have stowed away in my enormous brain.

Remember the time we decided to take a walk together, just to enjoy all that Naperville has to offer? Yeah that was great, but what I remember most about it was this:

We asked someone to take our picture so we could remember the great time we were having:


After they took that picture of only our mid sections, you got a little upset when I commented on the fact that I have better abs then you:

And then we weren't really on speaking terms:

But then you felt bad, because you know my abs are like obviously rock hard in that picture so we went and hung out with Stefan's Grama and ate noodles until I no longer had flat abs.

One event that needs no introduction was the best day before thanksgiving ever.

We got drunk and watched people eat pies out of waitresses crotches, I was embarrassed of course, and you were just plain disgusted.

So we got the hell out of there and went to a rave.
You got the last glow stick, so we shared, because that's what best friends do:

It was time to go when I had taken too much X and tried to make out with you:


I think I've let out one too many of our dirty secrets for one night.

This walk down memory lane has made me tired, for we all know I am not one for physical exertion of any kind.

As for my brother, I have alerted the republican authorities and he is well on his way to a recovery in an unknown christian right wing cult as we speak, so you shouldn't be hearing anymore from him...unless he concocts some hairbrained scheme to escape or they discover that he really wants to be there, either way he'll be out in no time.

I'm out.

For Old Time's Sake

Trains are for thinking, and sexual positioning. (Uncle G)

Dearest K.Dubbs:

First off, I would like to express my deepest concern for your well-being after we decided to do this, and then I took a leave of absence for weeks after. I know how hard you take things like that and there is no shitty candy hearts in the world that will ever make it ok. With that said though, I no longer will apologize for my mishaps leading up to this point, but we sure can talk about the past like it was the best years of our lives.

I was riding the train the other morning with a pad of paper and a pen, trying to think of things to either write about in one of my 3 "blog" things, and then I fell asleep.

Remember that weird little store in the neighborhood over here? I tried finding it the other day on my way back from work and I could not. It's like a heavy fog surounds the place and won't let me discover either coolest place in Naperville, or it is hiding me from a bloody and gooey death. My interest is peaking, the suspense is killing me. The truth of the matter though, is that I wouldn't feel right exploring the place without Dubbs watching my back, so maybe you're going to have to take a day off of slinging educations at people, and come hang out during the afternoon out here.

I keep running into your ex-roommate and it always makes me miss the days of walking into your room and finding both of you sleeping, so I would tip-toe backwards and close the door and pretend I wasn't creepy. The worst part of it all, was that it was like 3 in the afternoon all the time.

God, I miss TV night with pudding and the armchairs. That honestly will be one of my fondest memories of our friendship and college.

I'm feeling nostalgic now...let us reflect...

Art Museum Field Trip:


Waiting on the steps became boring, so you told one of the Goombas from the Mario Bros. Movie to eff off.


Waiting on the steps became boring, so we creeped out an old man and some children.


Waiting on the steps became boring, so you rolled your mustache like the cartoon character behind you.


We saw some art.


Then saw the inside of a bar at noon, while our classmates saw more art across the street.


Then we got drunk on our field trip, and were home by 4pm.


A couple weeks later, we pretended we weren't excited to see Avril at the mall.

God Bless. God Speed. God Rules!

Uncle Gordon

P.S. This is the weird shit your brother sends me,
http://cheston.com/pbf/archive.html

Uncle Gordon's Intro

Well look what we have here.

For anyone that may have any idea what this is, welcome back and put on your harness, this is going to be a killer ride.

This right here, is the personal correspondence between two the most alike people in the world (besides the fact that Dubbs can pee in 2.3 seconds, and well I...just can't). This will be an 'A - B' conversation so you know what to do with your 'C'. At times, it may seem like we are speaking to you, but we really don't mean for you to get involved. Just read, feel comfy, and maybe even feel inspired to get a friend.

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It has been years since the last Correspondence update and it is entirely my fault. Dubbs wrote some really kickbutt updates, but I ran out of time and steam to actually get them up on the old Correspondence site. So, blame: taken.
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From this point on, you will read the back and forth letters between two of the smartest people to have ever lived (besides Ryan Seacrest)...

Soon

I must confess. It has been almost a year since my last correspondence and the pennance that I recieved from the man formerly recognized as Mr. Gordon is enough to make an alter boy quiver. So on that note, I soon enough will be chaining myself to the computer and getting down to business. For now I must go bulk shopping..on Friday night.