Kieran McConville
ONE love, blood, life
Dear Elvis, I have a comb-over. Don't you think it suits me? I shaved off my crown and scooped the remaining hair across to achieve quite the contemporary fashion effect, if I do say so myself.
The ladies love it.
I feel rather apprehensive addressing you directly, though we have often passed from afar, like ships in the night. All my wisecracks wilt like warm lettuce in your prescence and I find myself tongue-tied (I don't know why I feel so skinned alive).
I feel like Dorothy from Kansas, if you know what I mean.
Nice computer desk, by the way. Most of my work is done inside the shoebox where I live.
Where to begin? Since being sacked from children's television, I've been on somewhat of a downward spiral, but things are looking up now. I have a new job hosing out the monkey cage at my local zoo, where many bad dogs live. They talk to me sometimes, and while they may lack something in articulation, their wit is sharp.
While earning a sub-minimum wage of peanuts and imitation gruel, I am saving pennies to make my first ever feature film. I think people will really enjoy it, if I can ever persuade Steve Guttenberg to take up the offers that I throw his way like confetti.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, things are peachier than they have been, while not quite up to the Magic Jungle standards of old.
I did work as a McDonalds serving boy for a while, but the job lacked the mental stimulation that I crave, and working conditions were Dickensian. More than once I lost a limb or two to the antiquated cash register, and... is it possible to pick up STDs from flipping burgers? Suffice to say, Uncle Ronnie is a hard taskmaster. Very hard and firm.
Word to the wise: avoid the special white sauce.
Enough of my travails however. Life is definitely looking up on the romantic front since I grew my comb-over, with women throwing themselves at me left, right and centre. I also like to wear ill-fitting grey business suits when hosing out the monkey cages, as I feel that professionalism is very important in these situations. Wouldn't you agree?
Well, I've got to go to bed now and catch a half hour or so of beauty sleep before my shift at the zoo begins again. I never imagined so few monkeys could produce so much shit.
Signed sealed and delivered, I remain yours truly.
The ladies love it.
I feel rather apprehensive addressing you directly, though we have often passed from afar, like ships in the night. All my wisecracks wilt like warm lettuce in your prescence and I find myself tongue-tied (I don't know why I feel so skinned alive).
I feel like Dorothy from Kansas, if you know what I mean.
Nice computer desk, by the way. Most of my work is done inside the shoebox where I live.
Where to begin? Since being sacked from children's television, I've been on somewhat of a downward spiral, but things are looking up now. I have a new job hosing out the monkey cage at my local zoo, where many bad dogs live. They talk to me sometimes, and while they may lack something in articulation, their wit is sharp.
While earning a sub-minimum wage of peanuts and imitation gruel, I am saving pennies to make my first ever feature film. I think people will really enjoy it, if I can ever persuade Steve Guttenberg to take up the offers that I throw his way like confetti.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, things are peachier than they have been, while not quite up to the Magic Jungle standards of old.
I did work as a McDonalds serving boy for a while, but the job lacked the mental stimulation that I crave, and working conditions were Dickensian. More than once I lost a limb or two to the antiquated cash register, and... is it possible to pick up STDs from flipping burgers? Suffice to say, Uncle Ronnie is a hard taskmaster. Very hard and firm.
Word to the wise: avoid the special white sauce.
Enough of my travails however. Life is definitely looking up on the romantic front since I grew my comb-over, with women throwing themselves at me left, right and centre. I also like to wear ill-fitting grey business suits when hosing out the monkey cages, as I feel that professionalism is very important in these situations. Wouldn't you agree?
Well, I've got to go to bed now and catch a half hour or so of beauty sleep before my shift at the zoo begins again. I never imagined so few monkeys could produce so much shit.
Signed sealed and delivered, I remain yours truly.
