Hard Hat Area

Hey, you.

The first thing you'll notice about this letter is that I replaced our header with a picture. I can't scale it right for the life of me (or even round the edges, which I'd like), so I was hoping you could take your drawing tablet and fix it up a bit... remind me later to email you a copy of the picture. I'm contemplating just trying to replace the background of the E3- with transparency (which I should have done in the first place, provided blogger takes .pngs) but that would require starting over from scratch since I didn't save old drafts. Silly me.

I also changed the name of the blog to the Wheel of Fortune Before & After delight that is "Open Letter Surgery." I hope you like it. If not, the preferences of this blog are as open to you as they are to me.

I'd also like to get the blog spruced up a bit, maybe add a widget or two. Therefore, I propose that with your next letter you make one improvement to our layout. If you can find a decent way to play some Wolf Parade in the background, that would be IDEAL.

Anyways, on with the letter, starting with replies to your last message!
I do like that we cover all avenues of communication. Yes, we talk a lot. That is no reason to not write letters. That's how blogs work-- most blogs are only read by your friends who know everything you're saying there anyway.

Except for this one!
I'd like to welcome Mike, who is the only person I know besides us reading this blog. He fora-stalked his way over here from Echochamber, and although I'm not sure if he's still reading this, I'm gonna give him a shoutout anyway.

That being said, very few people know the story behind the URL of our blog except for us. I do like that little secret, obsolete though it may be.

217 isn't a location. It's a state of being.

Furthermore, you ARE Alarmingly Adorable. (in bed! hur hur hur.[sic]) We were discussing what we like about each other, and as much as I'm a raging manly-man whose pale charms are enough to start a small national holiday without a shirt, you are cute. Actually, you're cuter than that, because I don't think Obama would give me a holiday, since he's not into dudes. Point being, you could probably cripple a man (or even woman) whose nickname was Bull Elephant by using your cuteness attack. (wikilinked because I couldn't believe with my own eyes that there is a wiki page on cuteness.)
I am prepared to do a mathematical proof of your cuteness on request.

I also realize we've been too harsh on NPLs. They can be tolerated, although PHs (Pineapple Haters) should be burned at the stake. Or at the steak. Nothing compliments a pineapple like a nice teriyaki-marinated steak.

I am glad you approve of my definition of Qanothersznxtfd. We still need to figure out a way to pronounce that so we can use it in casual conversation, since, as you agree, it is a familiar concept. I still remember you telling me about that movie with the Mexican midget, even if you don't.

On that topic, I'd like to propose a new word that has arisen from us cheating at Scrabble: Joarr. I am unsure what the definition should be. The only one that comes to mind is "Colloquial shortening of what you shout when you're driving to a Journey concert in a VW van. Full version: JJOOOORRRRNEEEEYYYYYY."

Your Peach Upside-Down Cake is one of the top ten things I look forward to about hanging out with you when I move. My mouth waters with the utmost frevor when I think about it. The only improvisation I have used is when making a recipie for a coffee additive that mostly consists of microwaved marshmallows. I still swear by it.

Regarding Bumbershoot: Take me there. (ALL NIGHT LONG![sic]) I would do anything to go there. Just about anything, really.


Anyways, this letter has gotten quite long. I don't have that much more to add at this point, besides my declaration of a Scrabble throwdown. (this letter will be continued in my next one.) Besides, I have to wrap up this letter so I can call you again.

E3-,
Chris