Welp, it's time for another letter to a stranger. This time, I took the easy way out and simply let Mad Libs do most of the work for me. It's a relatively short missive, but I feel it packs a wallop of absurdity. Here:
Since this was a rather short note, I thought I'd introduce you to an old hobby of mine, from my 9-5 days. Working in an office can be fraught with stress, especially while working in a secretary pool of about a dozen women, led by the alpha bitch of doom. I had to blow off steam somehow, and other than spending the day completely high on marijuana (just kidding! or
am I? ahahahaha.) I liked to make photocopies of my face. Some of them I kept, but occasionally I'd throw one into a personal and confidential envelope and leave it on a co-worker's desk. It always went over well.
As you'll see from the variations on the appearance of the photocopies, I had access to more than one copier. The one in the reception area was the smallest, and rather heavy on the toner - which would often jam the machine up ... with a fucking photocopy of my face. Most of my plans are that genius.
Enjoy.
.
