Dearest Robert Dean,
Hello. It’s (insert full name here), and I wanted to tell you about this amazing opportunity I have for you. No, this has nothing to do with Nigerian Princes so please continue reading. Robert Dean, when was the last time you went on vacation?
Not in a “no show” sense, but in the actual vacation sense.
What if I told you I have a voucher for a flight anywhere in the continental United States, and I’m ready to give it to you free of charge. There is a catch. You must use the voucher to go to Lake Lanier.
(insert picture of hell on Earth)
Hear me out.
It’s been called Haunted Lake. The Hot Spring of Death. The Place Where Not Even Cancer Jiles’ Shadow Cast. The Bermuda Triangle of Atlanta. It’s also said to be beautiful this time of year, and is the perfect place for you to go after successfully losing in horrific fashion.
I thought the last call sign was a tad ironic since your stomach was once referred to as the Bermuda Triangle of food.
Or maybe it was.
Good old, Lake Lanier. Where people go to die and have a fun time doing it. Well, fun for Georgians at least. Regardless of the level of impotence, you’re going to love it there. I just know it. I can’t wait to hear the tales of you trying to figure out the mysteries and riddles of Atlanta’s famous lake.
Cool lake and all, but it looks like a pond for small fish. Ha. Oh, and hi Bob. Miss you buddy. But for real, leave it to Atlanta to have a famous lake. I guess that’s Georgia for you, though. Golf courses and lakes. It’s no wonder it is such a hot spot for non-athletic, gay men.
And then of course, there is the story I look forward to the most. The one of your death.
Download the attachment at the bottom of the page for more information on your Dream getaway.
There is no attachment.
It costs 500000 Best Points.
Dearest Robert Dean,
Full discretion. I’ve never been to Lake Lanier. I saw a video and thought the person falling off of a dock looked like someone I knew.
My favorite band is Less Than Jake. No, it’s not.
Then I read up about the body of water and it turns out it’s an actual shitpot of death and misery. I knew right then and there what I wanted to use my imaginary voucher for.
I owe you. Bobby. I do. If you haven’t figured it out yet, it’s me, your old buddy, Cancer Jiles. I wrote the first one under the guise of anonymity. Sorry for trying to trick you. I know it is easily done since your brain and skull have been caved in on more than one occasion.
To my point.
I said I owe you. I do. Not a beating. Or a thrashing. Or both, with an ensuing towel whipping. I owe you genuine. A debt. Here is why. If it weren’t for you failing constantly and more considerably time and time again, I never would have been able to become a two time double champion, a World Champion, and the greatest tag team competitor to ever grace High Octane Wrestling.
Almost forgot, I also captained a War Games team for Lee Best.
All possible because I realized that you Bobby Dean, the Beautiful Man from Honalee, are the biggest waste of space I have ever known. No, that is not some fat joke either. You pushed me, Bob.
To not be you.
Thanks for sucking, just another reason I know you’re going to love Lake Lanier.
Before I go, tell me, Bob, since I never had the gaul to ask you before: how does it look from the outside? Better yet, is it tiring standing out there with a round red nose, rainbow afro, and oversize shoes on your feet?
Better than fat ones I suppose.
CBD is a saint.
Have fun sunbathing at Lake Lanier. Don’t bother with the postcard saying you might not come back.
We already know you won’t.
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