Friend's Mom Finds Out About Hunter's Livejournal, Missiles Fly

Friend's Mom Finds Out About Hunter's Livejournal, Missiles Fly : Sinks His Battleship 

So, funny story about today. I'm not going to get any fucking sleep, and here's why:

At 6am this morning, I head up to my bed to pass out, I just ate steak fries with ranch and it was a delicious "good night" meal. So I go to my room and pass out because of the delicious fatigue or whatever.

I wake up three(3) hours later to my sister telling me that NANCY HAWKES had delivered, with stark horror on her face, a letter of epic proportions, inclusive of several of my stories printed off. This bothers me a little, because my parents don't really know much about my livejournal or its contents.

Here is the letter(in bold) and my commentary(regular/italics):
Dear Betty and David,

This is a difficult letter to write. I was surfing the net and came across Hunter's online journal last night No, goddamnit. Do you expect anyone to believe you were "SURFING THE NET"? Sad, middle-aged women don't do that. Furthermore, I know that you frequent Jeff's journal to spy on him, so, whatever. What I saw crushed me. It appears that he and Jeff are heavily involved in drinking and drugs alcohol is a drug--you're being redundant. Attached are some of the entries that he posted online. In the narrative, Jeff is "Horatio", comma goes inside the quotes this time, trust me, I'm the king of commas Joey is "Jay" and I believe Caleb is "Sneakers". again, punctuation goes WITHIN the quotations unless it's posed as a question like the above "Do you expect anyone to believe you were 'SUFING THE NET'?" Statement. See how it works now? Understand the syntax? Good.

So, my parents are kind of worried but my mother compliments me on my writing style, of which I'm proud. Maybe she'll put it on the fridge under a magnent or something and be all, "This is when my son puked his brains out after having HUNTER SHOTS, I'm so proud of him!"

In anger, I started writing a reply letter, the first version of which went something like, "If civil war were to break out amongst the red and blue states, your overly Republican ass would be my first kill! This is not a threat, merely an unmet stipulation!"

But, realizing I'm not at all the violent type, or one to give into anger, I cooled off and rewrote it. Here is my letter(in bold) without commentary, of course:

Dear Nancy Hawkes,

Thank you for acting so swiftly on what you think is the truth, but I implore you, do not take action against those not involved. My online writing project grew out of a short story I wrote in calculus class this past year, a class I failed because I was too busy worrying about reading and writing stories. At the time, I was reading Tucker Max’s book, I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, and ever since have emulated his writing style as such, beginning with the story, “A Tucker Max Emulation, It Seems.”

Events and characters discussed on my livejournal have little basis in fact and rarely enjoy the pleasures of accuracy. In using acquaintances and events similar or parallel to that of real life, I have made a mistake. However, the mistake is yours in filling in the gaps and projecting an incorrect view of my stories for yourself.

Typically, I find myself pitching my story ideas to my group of friends before posting them so as to iron out what I think will be a good story– basically what a comic does in testing his jokes. This instance will surely feed my fires and give me something to think about. For that, I am grateful. Said gratefulness, however, will merely negate the ire aroused in the depths of my soul after having to wake up early this morning to this nonsensical idiocy and rampant conjecture.

For someone who suspends their belief so easily on pressing matters such as global warming, I’d figure you to be a skeptic. Although, when it comes to pseudo-fictional writings by your son’s best friend, IT MUST BE TRUE. Is it not possible that, as an individual who fell in love with the English language at the age of 12, someone to whom creative writing was his favored class– is it not possible, then, to understand that these works are part of a larger project to sustain and uphold my writing ability? Reality, Nancy, is a tough, enigmatic serpent. It’s not what reality is that gets us, in the end, but rather how you deal with it. So, in writing this, I hope you accept the truth of the matter and the reality of the issues, such as drinking, smoking, etc. because rejection will only further cause to damage the ties of this neighborhood. In days to come, I hope to publish these works as a greater whole in speaking out against drinking and the failures and inadequacies of the current system and age-limit regarding drinking.

Included are some works not yet ready for the public eye. Things I hope will help you understand this project as a whole.

Your New Best Friend,

Hunter Caldwell

I signed it and told her if she wanted to talk about it like adults, she could contact me easily, as we live across the street from one another. After I'm done, I march across the street in my boxers, around the back of their house where their paved driveway meets their porch, and up to the glass door where I duct-taped the message along with several creative stories. When I got back, my family(parents and sister) sat down and read some of my stories and laughed. My dad recounted some stories of his friends overdrinking and all was good in my world.

Then I go to fall asleep. And my mom trips on the stairs and breaks her ankle. Helping her to the car(still without pants. SANS pants, if you will), I see Nancy, my new best friend, across the street, letter in hand, staring like a fox on its prey. You launch the first wave, and the second salvo is mine.

However, I end up dismantling my Livejournal and retreating to my VOX account. So, thanks to a one, Nancy Hawkes, my stories will appear here, on VOX, for all of your reading enjoyment.