Date: Thursday, April 3, 2014 at 3:21 PM
Subject: What’s Your Problem?
I am writing to you with great annoyance at your unresponsiveness over the past week. What have I done, I wondered, to deserve such insensitivity from you, my dear brother? After all we’ve been through? After all our parents and I have done for your upbringing and development? This is the gratitude I receive? A cold shoulder and a bad attitude?
After spending no more than a minute agonizing over your discourteous behavior—which is the maximum amount of time, I reason, you are worth troubling my good-natured spirits over—I suddenly realized the source of your rudeness. It is clear that you are distraught over my recent departure from that overcrowded cesspool of a city you call home, and you are lonely now that I am no longer living in your immediate proximity.
Your feelings are justifiable, though the resultant behavior toward me is not. You know well, dear brother, my desperate need for space, tranquility, and clean air, which is why I fled the Beltway and assumed residency south of the James River. For the five years I lived in DC, I felt like I was living in a cage at a chicken factory. I was slowly suffocating from the constant racket, the filthy air, and the corrupt buffoons in business suits who were as numerous as the stars in the sky. Since fleeing that crooked station of decadence, my health and morale have been restored to levels not seen since my adolescence. Rather than holding an indignant grudge, why don’t you just be happy for me that I have recaptured my life from the fatal jaws of degeneration?
Seeing how you obviously miss my charming presence, and since 100 miles is all that separates us, why don’t you climb that whiny ass of yours into your spiffy new truck and come down here and visit? If you don’t want to come to see me, at least come to visit my son—your nephew—you selfish turd.
Date: Thursday, April 3, 2014 at 4:33 PM
Subject: Re: What’s Your Problem?
As I have conveyed to you numerous times through an array of communication modes, your self-righteous attitude is becoming unbearable. I recognize your excitement of moving to a new locale with less traffic and more obesity, and I too hope to experience such a transition in the near future.
However, your brazen attempts to use your own child to guilt my “whiny ass” into driving 100 miles to your rustic setting south of the James River is becoming tiresome. Perhaps I am selfish; perhaps I have things to do. In any sense, your hypocritical jabs, calling me selfish, are as ironic as they are pedantic.
On a different note, if your health and morale have now been restored to levels you have not seen since adolescence, that frightens me a great deal. If you recall, your “adolescent level” of health was that of a 16-year old alcoholic and third-rate athlete with a bum shoulder. If your health and morale have indeed returned to this dismal level of lethargic shame, how were you even alive before your relocation?
As my eldest brother, I would be remiss if I failed to thank you for your profound influence upon my upbringing. I would not be the man I am today had it not been for your drunken flatulence upon my head in front of your degenerate friend with the earrings. In retrospect, the times you held my head in the toilet were merely character-building exercises. I hope you choose to tap into that same paternal instinct once again with your own son.
I will come visit you soon. However, the visit will be on my own terms, you lazy jackass.