Originally posted by WildHonee:
Dear Mr. Pleba:
I don't know who you are but I don't appreciate you having an on-line affair with my daughter. Now I don't know who's doing more corrupting, her or you, but I think it should stop right now. I just finished treating another concussion. She gets concussion nearly every single day because she falls off her chair laughing at things you say.
We made tamales the other night at my mother's house and she could not stop giggling at the thought of wrapping and tying up the tamales. I really don't understand what's so funny.
Additionally, I am interested in exactly what the big deal is about leather and meat. And when did candy canes become so funny? This place you call home, Mr. Pleba, is very scandalous. Now, with that sentence, why do I feel like a bunch of hormonal women are laughing at me?
Sincerely,
Mona's Mom.
P.S. If you can get me that Richard Gere lookalike that hangs out with that Mr. Bone-o fellow that Mona is so crazy for....all will be forgiven.