Dear Johnny (or is it Connie. . . or Bonnie. . . or Donny. . . no it's definitely Johnny. . . )
I would like to congratulate you on your impending nuptials.
I'm also happy to hear that after 60-something years of being on the fence (shall we say) that you have determined that the heterosexual lifestyle is the one for you. And - yes - it is glorious to be in love.
But since you have spent so many of your earthly years in someone else's back yard, I thought I would give you just a few pointers on how women feel about some of the things that you shared earlier today. . .
- Women do not like you entering church offices and regaling the employees there with your latest sexual exploits - especially if it includes some mention of blood and gore.
- Women do not like you telling the very same employees how you managed the very same types of things while on the other side. It just isn't conversation meant for polite company.
- Women do not especially like you taking a beer or two so early in the morning. We much prefer that you take your meds like the doctor suggests.
- Nor do we like to hear about what it was like the time you had bed bugs.
- Women do not think you need a bridal gown for your nuptials - nor should you glam yourself down the aisle when you hear the beginnings of Here Comes the Bride.
- We do - however - like you to take off your white athletic socks if wearing flip-flops.
But my greatest piece of advice for you, Dear Johnny, is a warning for you to watch your heart - for you and I both know it's been broken before. And in a strange and quite uncomfortable way, I find myself hoping that your future bride knows just how lucky she is.
That's right. I said lucky. . . to have the bi-polar, bi-sexual, anxiety-ridden, bed-bugged, heart-and-thyroid-diseased teddy bear that is YOU!
Call me crazy. . .
Oh. . . and that twenty bucks???? You still owe it to me.
