This is clearly a threat. Call the police.
I lost my checkbook once. It was mailed back to me, no return address, all checks intact, with a note inside that said:
“I smell pickles.”
?
At another time, I lost my billfold. It turned up in my mailbox a couple of days later. Again, all cards and everything intact, with a note inside that said, “Too bad you aren’t better looking or I would’ve returned it myself.”
Geez! Everybody knows your driver’s license picture sucks. Gimme a break.
I would just like to say that that note in no way has anything to do with a pending Martian invasion August 31. Nothing at all and I don’t know why you would even think that.
Hide your kids, hide your wife.
date explains it, valentine card
lucky you!
Maybe it’s not Gumby, but a Gumby?
Stretching your Gumby out to “two feet and seven inches” sounds like it’d cause permanent damage.
Well, one of the tenants next door is a yoga instructor. Several times she has mentioned this to me. Maybe I should call her out on this. It might not be a crime to torture a Gumby, but there’s something immoral about it, if you ask me.
I happen to have a Gumby on my desk, and I can assert that while it bends, it does not stretch at all.
So you have LSD imbibing liars in your neighborhood. . .
Good Lord-- Is this a reference to that French poem? If so, I salute you, sir, and remain awestruck at the esoteric knowledge of the collective Dope.
(If not, well, I’ll just slink off now)
eta: D’oh! Beaten to the punch!
Or taking a baseball bat to your mailbox, which is a common sport for bored teens around these parts.
I think it’s just one of those great unexplained things. I’d probably frame it and hang it in my office.
Okay. During lunch I went home and was able to confront the yoga teacher about this matter. She seemed truly surprised that I connected her to the note. Of course, she denied any knowledge of it.
I indicated that I believed her, but left her with an observation: “You know [Ms. Yoga Teacher], this is ‘Culture Note #2’…I’d be very interested to see the one I missed–‘Culture Note #1.’ Wouldn’t you?”
With that I left her to ponder my next move.
Not Baudelaire! Verlaine.
http://verlaineexplique.free.fr/poemesat/chanson.html
Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l’automne
Blessent mon cœur
D’une langueur
Monotone.
I was going to ask if you were in college. This sounds like the work of an introverted grad student who has trouble with the opposite sex (or their preferred gender, whatever).
Wait. You’re helping her learn her craft. How can you be so selfish? Wearing an athletic supporter under your Hanes for the rest of your days & waiting for Viagra to inflate you like a cheap garden hose…is that really too big a price to pay?
Dear Og, for the sake of Rt 1 traffic, don’t let her leave him Cliff Notes…
It’s your voter registration renewal reminder from the One World Government.