Dear John-letter
Dear John,
for years I've been a great admirer. Your peculiar way of serving, your touch at the net, your hair-do, your profanity. I even prefer you to Sue Barker these days.
But yesterday I felt truly blessed. For the first time in my life I could feel your Spirit coming over me. One of the voices in my head (the It's Thursday, I didn't sleep, leave me alone-voice) was touched by your hand and kept yelling:
"Oh my God. You cannot be serious. I am surrounded by idiots!"
No, really. The stupidity of some people has no ending. At the end of the day I had a vague taste of chalkdust in my mouth.
Thanks for touching me, oh great master.
Yours faithfully,
ton petit cochon.
Dear John,
for years I've been a great admirer. Your peculiar way of serving, your touch at the net, your hair-do, your profanity. I even prefer you to Sue Barker these days.
But yesterday I felt truly blessed. For the first time in my life I could feel your Spirit coming over me. One of the voices in my head (the It's Thursday, I didn't sleep, leave me alone-voice) was touched by your hand and kept yelling:
"Oh my God. You cannot be serious. I am surrounded by idiots!"
No, really. The stupidity of some people has no ending. At the end of the day I had a vague taste of chalkdust in my mouth.
Thanks for touching me, oh great master.
Yours faithfully,
ton petit cochon.
