Honey, it has been awhile. I have no excuse. I mean, I'm just sitting here with my sippy cup of sangria under my Hotel Collection down comforter, wearing a t-shirt with an anchor on it, watching tasteful pornography, and eating DIET CHIPS.
The truth is, Honey, I'm busy. It's hard being a cold bitch, teaching old men how to wipe their own asses, cashing alimony checks, and meeting new men to go on dates with that make a wistful woman think, what if this one has learned how to wipe that. That in addition to eating queso, leaving for my Beverly Hills condo in 2 weeks (for 3 months! What will the country Missouri do without my money in its pockets?), and writing two full length books about 1. my time with Mick and the Boys:
twice as fuckable with Brian
and 2. my childhood as a rich rouge daughter:
Once the summer starts, I'll be writing tons more to you. You, Honey, after all, are what keep me from attempting to kill myself one more sweet time, to my own sweet degree. How could I off myself with so much money to spend?