Strawberry Letter number one.
Hello my love:
I've missed you. I though about you when I had the crowd roaring: I wished that you were there. Me make law review princess proud of me. Isn't that what I'm about? Don't you realize that I'm working overtime to be the best, smartest, funniest, most loyal and dependable fucker around IN ORDER TO IMPRESS YOU? I love you soooo much. I think I love you more than anyone has ever loved anyone. And I have proof. My proof is how much I've assimulate you into my world. Or is it assimalate? I mean, you've taken over my live, as any woman who loves a man should. That's what love is, sweet pea: assimilation. However it's spelled. You know what I mean. The life of two people should never be about personalities butting heads. It should be about accepting the other into you. Like I accept you into me. Like you accept me into you. Know what I mean? I accept your faults with as much relish and joi de vivre as I accept you're most sacred and precious talents. You do accept my faults, don't you? If you don't, consider this: Not many guys have ever been committed to write twenty three love letters to their woman before the wedding. Not many guys want to give that much information to their wimin. Just give her enough to keep her around here, cooking, some think. Nope. Not me. I want something more. And I've found it with you: a really lovely, beautiful woman who I adore and hope to adore forevermore.
Gotta go now. You'll hear from me soon. Right now, I'm thinking about my infant of prague collection and about how they remind me that we eat the body of our God each week. We consume our God so he becomes a part of us. Like I consume you. And you consume me. Love, Shuggie's Ghost.
P.S. Im not exactly sure what joi de vivre means, how it is comprehended in French. But someone this weekend said my dad had it, so It cant be bad. Right?
Hello my love:
I've missed you. I though about you when I had the crowd roaring: I wished that you were there. Me make law review princess proud of me. Isn't that what I'm about? Don't you realize that I'm working overtime to be the best, smartest, funniest, most loyal and dependable fucker around IN ORDER TO IMPRESS YOU? I love you soooo much. I think I love you more than anyone has ever loved anyone. And I have proof. My proof is how much I've assimulate you into my world. Or is it assimalate? I mean, you've taken over my live, as any woman who loves a man should. That's what love is, sweet pea: assimilation. However it's spelled. You know what I mean. The life of two people should never be about personalities butting heads. It should be about accepting the other into you. Like I accept you into me. Like you accept me into you. Know what I mean? I accept your faults with as much relish and joi de vivre as I accept you're most sacred and precious talents. You do accept my faults, don't you? If you don't, consider this: Not many guys have ever been committed to write twenty three love letters to their woman before the wedding. Not many guys want to give that much information to their wimin. Just give her enough to keep her around here, cooking, some think. Nope. Not me. I want something more. And I've found it with you: a really lovely, beautiful woman who I adore and hope to adore forevermore.
Gotta go now. You'll hear from me soon. Right now, I'm thinking about my infant of prague collection and about how they remind me that we eat the body of our God each week. We consume our God so he becomes a part of us. Like I consume you. And you consume me. Love, Shuggie's Ghost.
P.S. Im not exactly sure what joi de vivre means, how it is comprehended in French. But someone this weekend said my dad had it, so It cant be bad. Right?
ndoki:
it means he enjoys life...yes, it is a very good thing