part 5

Subject: Neither knowing nor believing

To: BoPeep

From: MackAttack

Date: 07/19  2:48a.m. PDT

“ the barbarian attacks….” – Pallas Athene


As I opened your letter, a vicious little spider monkey leapt out to the Loony Toons theme and started tearing up my letter because she couldn’t understand it. Women like you burn libraries. You march in ugly mobs carrying pitchforks and sooty torches. Your ability to think is squashed under a ton of congealed estrogen and screams out, “I am Satan! All hail me!”

Get a life, you tell me? Get some Prozac.

We burned the wrong witches long ago. I just know we destroyed the Northern European female gene pool by incinerating sanity and allowing only the most reactionary hysterical Hyperboreans to procreate. In the mists, you all mated with wolverines and Mexican hairless dogs and carry on their nasty little spirits. Tiny white Napoleon penis complex is carried on the maternal side of families.

I had tremendous illusions about your depth and intelligence years ago, and you should have done yourself a favor by utterly falsifying yourself and trying to live up to them. Pardon me, but me and my high minded superiority are off to the play the grand piano at Sharpe’s on Tuesday. I’m doing the first folio of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier for tips. And I’m scared to death. I’m pissing actually. So there’s the opening for you to sink your fangs in and attack.

Or show up and know the piano player? Feel like that gives you some class? If you do, please wax your entire bikini area and wear no undies. I could use a focal point.



Subject: For real?

To: MackAttack

From: BoPeep

Date: 07/19  9:13a.m. PDT


That’s GREAT about the piano playing at Shapes.   If I can get off work, I’ll come. I’ll try. Sounds like fun. If I can’t get off, I want to hear all about it, okay?

You are so silly! It takes weeks to get an appointment with a good waxing salon. I couldn’t even fulfill your request even if I wanted to be your focal point. (And, I’m NOT saying that I wouldn’t want to!)

Let me see if anyone will trade a shift.





Subject: No dice

To: MackAttack

From: BoPeep

Date: 07/19 11:12a.m. PDT


I can’t get anyone to trade with me. I’m sorry. I want to hear all about it, though. I’m so happy for you. I reread your letter a few times. Some of it bothers me.

If you had “tremendous illusions” then they were yours alone. Come to think of it, that’s your specialty, isn’t it? I’m no less or more deep or intelligent than I was years ago. Maybe it was your years with the truly shallow and stupid Daphne somehow has screwed up your perception?

I understand you, mostly. I mean, sometimes you write like some Napoleon on his white horse and never do get to any point that I can find. I can sit here and try and figure out what you are trying to say, but it’s like trying to read a term paper by some stuffy white boy who thinks he’s an intellectual. You might as well write in Morse Code and have me decipher the dots and dashes.

Why must you be so difficult?

I really like you, Mack, but sometimes you make me so mad. I don’t know of any man who can get me more pissed off that you do.

Calling me a spider monkey made me laugh. The image was really funny.

Sincerely, yours truly, Your Little Spider Monkey (Aimee)


Subject: Hellooo…are you out there?

To: MackAttack

From: BoPeep

Date: 07/30  5:38p.m. PDT


I haven’t heard back from you. What’s wrong? Did I say something, or have you found some 600lb woman to date now?

Not much is new here. I mean, nothing of importance. Some guy I was dating just disappeared (like this is becoming a theme). He was calling me ten times a day, and then he just stopped. I don’t know if I should worry about him or what. But, then again, he was becoming annoying. It did get tedious to have someone calling every hour or so asking me what I was doing. Anyway, I just realized that I haven’t heard from him since Wednesday. Weird. Oh well, no biggie. (MEN!)

I mostly just wanted to drop you a line, because you have also dropped off the planet, from what I can tell. Are things okay? How did the piano playing go? You never told me.

Well, anyway, I’d better get ready for work.





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