mad as hell

faithful readers: the last thing i want is to bring disgrace to the classical beaver, so i’ve decided to come clean and let the chips fall where they may.  (joanie babe, could you get me a scotch?)  most of you already know that i faked my own death during wartime and switched identities with my buddy who was blown up – thanks for your understanding.  a lot of you probably know i am also a sex addict, and can’t even go to my daughter’s school pageant show without banging a few teachers in the broom closet – for this i apologize.  some of you even know i’m a bit of a smoker – a disgusting habit i promise to be rid of once they invent the patch.  what you, dear reader, may not realize is that i’ve essentially been living two lives, and i just can’t go on anymore.  okay, let me just say it (gulp): i am the “angry symphony guy” from the portland mercury.  whew, that feels better already.  the current issue of this filthy, filthy rag contains the most recent letter-to-the-editor penned by yours truly, and serves as the latest proof of my uncontrollable urge to be published.  please – i beg of you – look past my lies, my breath’s terrible stench, my syphilis-riddled body, and forgive me one last time.

*for the first time ever, all seven (that’s right, seven!) letters-to-the-editor have been carefully selected and lovingly displayed under the “about” tab of this blog… hurry, this is a limited time offer!
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