Aww

Today's my birthday! I really like birthdays, as it gives me an excuse to be all nostalgic about my last two decades of life. I usually use them as an opportunity to look back at what's happened since my last one. I slogged through the spring semester at USD, and then happily got accepted to the U of M. Not that USD is awful, it just really wasn't the right place for me. I still miss a lot of the people that I met there, and it was nice to be able to see my family more often.

But hey, I moved. I'm in a city of over a million people for the first time in my life. I'm on my own, in my own (messy) apartment, and completely independent. I do need a job, though. That'd be a nice present. Anyway, it's really exciting for me right now. I was in a play a few weeks ago, and I helped Pat with a few of his film projects, which was great.

Tonight, Charlie, Brad, Bill, Andrew and I are watching An American Werewolf in London, and attempting to do a commentary track for it. Then, Rebecca and I are going to a Cloud Cult concert, which promises to be fun, and after that, I'm either going to see a Trash Film Debauchary show, or going to a friends to get, as the vernacular of the time calls it, "crunked".

Anyway, I'm going to watch The Daily Show now, here's my assignment from last night:

Hey,

I’m writing this in response to your letter, which I received, with the bouquet, on Thursday. The flowers were very nice, and I’m sure that you meant with all of your heart what you said in the letter, but I have to tell you to stop. Please, stop.
I’ve received all of your gifts over the past week, and they’ve all been very nice, but frankly, it’s too much. The nine letters that you’ve sent me since we met last Friday have all been very sweet, and I thank you for them, but I just can’t let this go on. I don’t even know you well enough for all of this kindness. Now, before you say anything, I know that you think I’m worth the world, as you said on page four of the first letter you sent me, and I’ve noticed it’s how you’ve ended every letter since, but we hardly know each other, hell, we don’t know each other.
I haven’t done anything to deserve this. All I did was my job. You asked if I would recommend a CD, and I did. You liked it, I’m glad, but just because we have a similar taste in music does not mean that I’m your “Annie Hall” (letter 7, page 3), or that “Rachel knows me left to right/ My love, my smell, my sense of sight” (“Rachel’s Song #5” track 5, disc 2 of the “Rachel, Rachel” compilation set). It just means that we both like Benny Goodman. Okay! That’s it. That’s all there is to our relationship.
I can’t have you in my life right now. I need you to stop hanging around me. I need you to stop following me to work, I need you to stop following me from work, and I need you to stop standing outside my window until one in the morning. Really, I’m tired of it. I’m tired of calling the police, and they’re tired of having to pick you up.
I know how you feel about me. I appreciate how many times you’ve called me beautiful in the past week, I appreciate the time and effort that goes into learning the mandolin, even if only for a single serenade, and while my neighbors didn’t like it, I appreciated having my name spelled out in paint on every lawn down my block. The pictures you’ve drawn are wonderful, and I’ve never had a bust of my head sent to me before, but it was great, and honestly, the tattoo is lovely, but I just can’t let this continue. I can’t be with you.
Now, my roommate’s have told me to file for a restraining order, but I don’t want it to come to that. I think that we can deal with this like adults. All I need for you to do is to stop trying to talk to me. Okay? Can you do that? Just forget we even met, forget about the CD store, and stop going there to get music. I know some really cute girls who work at Sam Goody, with terrific taste in music. I’m sure you’d get along with them.
I’m wrapping this up now, because you’ve started throwing pebbles at my window again. And yes, there’s the singing. This is going to be the last time I write to you. If you don’t stop this behavior right now, I will get that restraining order. Okay, I see that I need to throw this out to you now, as the neighbors have once again called the police. I hope you have a good life, really, I do, but if I can offer a suggestion to your courting strategy: be a tad less clingy. No, clingy isn’t the word I’m looking for. It’s creepy. Be a tad less creepy.


Thank you,

Rachel.

Number Two

Deleted Excerpt from President John Fitzgerald Kennedy’s Address at Rice University on the Space Effort, September 12, 1962


…At this point, you must be asking yourselves: why? What is the purpose of a mission to the moon? What is the purpose of all of this expenditure, where will it lead us, but perhaps even more, where did this idea: the idea of space travel in our time, come from?

I tell you now, without hubris, without ego, that I, your President, came up with this idea. The inspiration for this mission came to me like a dream. I was watching the television on one cloudy day, Jackie was playing with the kids and I had decided to take a break, and then, like a chorus from God, came the words: “Meet George Jetson”.

From that point on, I was introduced to The Future. I tell you great things will come; the possibilities of man are immense, and the opportunities numerous. Imagine if you will, a world with flying cars, robot maids, and dogs that can sort of talk. This is the world that I have been shown.

This is a world with a booming economy; a world where even a meager sprocket-factory worker only has to open the door to his house, and from there can be automatically transported to his television-viewing chair. Where a boy can be a computer genius, and a housewife only has to ask her maid to fabricate the dinner for the night.

This world of the future is impressive. This world of the future is scary. But this world of the future is attainable, and with our first steps on the moon, we inch a little bit closer.

I ask you to join me in this journey. Join me on the road to a future with flying cars and Spacley Sprockets. Join me on the road to a world with automatic showers, and floating televisions. I ask you to join me on this road today, and into tomorrow…

Hiatus Schmiatus

Charlie yelled at me to start posting on my blog, so I'm doing it. He is British after all, so his accent demands that I listen. Barring me actually coming up with original content for this thing which no one reads, I'm going to start posting my assignments from my Compositions of Comedy class. Here's my first one:

May 10, 1804

Dear Sirs,

I recently purchased a set of your Wogdon 235x Series Dueling Pistols. I have long been a fan of your 235 series, and when the 235xs came out I jumped at the opportunity to procure them.
Alas, when I went to shoot my pistols, I came to the realization that one of them was defective. It was quite surprising, I have had excellent success with your products in the past, so when the firing mechanism caused the gun to jump and thusly lose almost all accuracy, I must say, I was dismayed.
I am writing this letter as an inquiry as to how I would return the gun for a new one in working order. I assure you that I am still under warranty, and would like to get this matter settled as soon as possible.
My greatest thanks, in advance,
Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury: United States of America

May 24, 1804

Dear Sirs,

It has been a full two weeks past since I last sent you a letter regarding my purchase of a defective Dueling Pistol. I find myself writing you again to make sure that you are aware of the situation. I assure you that I intend on receiving either a new, working model of the 235x, or a full refund of the purchase price.
I wrote you immediately after the weapon was found to be defective, because I wanted to be sure that if I were involved in a duel soon, though I am not necessarily the dueling type, that I would be prepared with a working model. Your customer service is, frankly, appalling.
I sincerely hope that this letter finds you more swiftly than the last! And I implore you to respond immediately, or there will be consequences.

Anxiously awaiting your reply,
Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury: United States of America


June 02, 1804

Dear Mr. Hamilton,

Thank you for your letter. We here at the Wogdon Gun Company appreciate your business. Unfortunately, due to high customer volume, we are not able to respond to your request at this time. Your average wait time for customer assistance will be: 36 days. Please have your customer order number ready, and a service representative will contact you when all other customers have been taken care of. Please note: Letters are responded to in the order received.

Thank you,

Wogdon Gun Company


June 13, 1804

Dear Wogdon Gun Company,

I feel that I must apologize for my outburst in my previous letter to you; it was unbecoming of me. I am writing you now with a favor to ask.
Now I must preface this with the following: I am not one to take the office of Secretary of Treasury lightly. I respect my office and all the responsibilities that go with it. Furthermore, I would never abuse my authority, or my slight fame that I achieved over the course of building this nation, (something which I had a great deal to do with). However, I am going to invoke my title now in requesting that you “bump” my name up the list, as it were.
You see, I would only ask you for this favor under dire circumstances, which are precisely the circumstances which I face today, for you see, Aaron Burr, the venerable Vice President, and a man deserving of much respect, has challenged me to a duel. Yes, I know. What a dick.
Mr. Burr and I have had our problems in the past, but he has gone too far. For you see, he requisitioned me to take back every ill word I ever said about him. Ha! What gall he has! I mean, honestly, who does that guy think he is? But putting aside the fact that this man is obviously insane, I accepted his challenge. Now, for this challenge, we are to use my dueling pistols, and I find it necessary to use the 235x pistols, (rightly so, for one would not want to ignore your slogan “Don’t be a Fool, use us in your Duel!”) and so, need to have both of my models in working order by July 11, 1804.
I assure you that if you allow my customer service problem to be expedited, you will be rewarded.

Great thanks in advance,
Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury: United States of America

June 29, 1804

Mr. Hamilton,
Hi, my name is Gary, (Rep# 3905562) and I’ll be your representative on this matter. Well, I’ve checked with my manager, and it looks like if you send in the item in question, we’ll have our technicians check it out, and if we can’t fix the problem, we can zip a new one over to you right away. Now, you’ll need to include a few things for us in the package: receipt, a letter with the problem described in detail, and you’ll have to pay shipping. Now, if you send this off as soon as you get this letter, we can expect to have the item back to you in 4-6 weeks.
On a personal note, I’d just like to say that of all of the New Country Politicians, you are certainly my favorite, and it’s been a pleasure working for you. We look forward to your business in the future.
Thank you for your time,
Gary Sherman, Parts and Service

July 10, 1804

Most esteemed Wogdon Gun Company, and Mr. Gary Sherman,

Well, I am afraid that this has been a most unpleasant customer service experience. My initial contact with you about the item was MONTHS ago, and now, when I receive the news that my item will be replaced eventually; I find that it is too late. For you see, today is the tenth of July, and so, tomorrow, I will duel the Vice President of the United States, with a faulty gun. Aside from the embarrassment that I must face from friends who will no doubt mock my purchasing ability, I now have to find some way to try and have Mr. Burr use the faulty gun. This is most dishonorable, and despicable. So I will have to do it sneakily. I will scratch a small “X” onto the handle of the defective gun, and make sure that Mr. Burr is the one to use it. Normally, I would be appalled at my decision, but he really is a prick.
Certainly though, a man of his stature deserves some respect. So I have resolved, if our interview is conducted in the usual manner, and it pleases God to give me the opportunity, to reserve and throw away my first fire, and I have thoughts even of reserving my second fire. Well, maybe. Perhaps I will just go for the win. I have yet to fully decide that point.
Let there be no mistake, I blame you Gary Sherman for this egregious error. For your sake, I would hope that I come out of this unscathed.
Your Secretary of the Treasury
Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury: United States of America

July 12, 1804

Dear Gary Sherman,

Fuck you. Forgive my vulgarity, but fuck you, I’m bleeding. It pains me, quite literally, to tell you that I lost. I was shot in the chest. I’m dying, Gary Sherman, and it’s all your fault. Normally, I pride myself on being a restrained and articulate man, but rest assured Gary Sherman, you and your company will not go unpunished for letting that asshole of a Vice President hit me.
Oh sure, you might say that it’s my fault for giving him the wrong gun, but I still blame you! You were the company that already had a little “X” on the side of your firearm, thusly confusing me and in my haste giving that sniveling worm of a man the better weapon. You are the company that for months and months ignored my requests for my weapon to be fixed, and thus put me in this position in the first place. Well, rest assured Gary Sherman, you and your company will pay for your failures. The ways in which you’ll pay will be harsh. You are looking at a dueling motherfucker right now. I will duel your ass into and right back out of the afterlife you little shit. I can’t explain to you the pain that I am in right now. It really, really hurts. And you will feel that pain. Oh yes, you will.
Also, don’t even think about using a ten-dollar bill anytime soon you cowards! Hamilton will not rest until you are unable to use anything less than a twenty for your purchases!

See you in hell,

Alexander Hamilton, Deceased