QOO no. 89     May 14, 2010
      From the Pop Culture Dead Letter Office IV:
Inspirational Message
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April 28, 1962
Dear Bob,
     Contrary to your parting instructions, I thought about it twice.
In fact I thought about it a whole lot more than twice -- like multiple times every single day for about two years after you left. And I don't mean just sitting around wondering why, either. I'm talking about standing and pacing and mulling over all the whys, wherefores, how comes and what ifs.
     Most nights I was up until 3:00 am doing nothing but thinking. Ran up a whopping electrical bill for a while there. I brought this big floor lamp down from the attic that burns up a lot of juice (I never used it while you were here). Then after a while it occurred to me that since I wasn't reading or watching TV or anything there wasn't really any use in turning on my light. Don't you think?

     By the way, sometimes in the first few weeks after we broke up
I'd look outside my window and there'd be some guy standing in the shadows on the other side of the street. At first I thought it was you, but every time I called out your name (hah! Can you imagine me yelling like that?) the creep just stood there like he was deaf or something. So I guess that was pretty useless too, huh?

     Well, I'd better get to the point. Gosh, I hope I say the right thing here. We never were much good at talking, but I had to let you know: the rumors you've been told are true. There is a child. Her name is Harriet, she's almost five years old now and I'd like to get her into a decent boarding school. I don't want her walking back and forth to public school, what with all the crumbum drifters roaming the roads these days. They've all got this sicko lost-in-thought look of wonderment on their face. Bunch of losers. I bet half of them don't even have any idea where they're going.
     What I'm trying to say is, I just want what's best for her. I want to treat her with kindness. Or at least better than I apparently treated you. Not that you seemed to mind that much.

      Hey, you remember that heart-shaped silver locket you gave me?

I thought I'd let Harriet have it when she turns 18. A little keepsake from you. Really though, I guess what I want is your seal.
Of approval. Some closure, you know?

So anyway, bottom line, I was hoping that maybe you could contribute a little something to your daughter's education. 
     Think about it, all right?
     I hope you're faring well.
Bye! (Ugh -- terrible word, isn't it?)

PS: I didn't actually get up that morning until 11:30. Damn rooster had been keeping me awake so much I decided to start sleeping with earplugs. You think my time isn't precious?


Copyright 2010 by David Jaggard. 
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Don't read this: QOO is a humor site devoted to parody, satire, parodies, satires, jokes and humor, jokes and humour, news parodies, news satires, funny news, satires of the news, parodies of the news, humorous news, news jokes, newspaper parodies, funny quotes, funny lists, list humor, list humour, list jokes, stupid criminals, stupid crimes, frauds and hoaxes, true crime stories, funny pickup lines, ridiculous pickup lines, offbeat music, newspaper satires, literary parodies, literary satires, literary satire, literary parody, satirical literature, funny obituaries, parodies of obituaries, journalism parodies, journalism satires, journalism parody, journalism satire, parodies of literature, lyrics, parodies of lyrics, satires of lyrics, song lyric parodies, song lyric satires, satires of literature, strange monologues, humorous lists, humourous lists, list parodies, list satires, Bob Dylan parodies, Bob Dylan parody, Bob Dylan satire, Bob Dylan satires and getting as many possible search engine keywords into this paragraph as possible. Also trying get Bob Dylan fans to read this particular issue by putting in the name Bob Dylan a lot. Bob Dylan and Don't Think Twice It's All Right lyrics, or Don't Think Twice It's Alright lyrics. Or even Bob Dylan and don't think twice it's allright lyrics. I bet Bob Dylan himself never typed his own name, Bob Dylan, as many times on a single page as I am typing it, Bob Dylan, now. And if Bob Dylan ever sees this page himself, he, Bob Dylan, will probably have to look for a long time before finding his name, Bob Dylan, on it.  That's because "Bob Dylan" is all the way down here in the fine type and Bob Dylan himself might not have the patience to find "Bob Dylan", his name, down here with all the other Bob Dylan mentions. But hey, Bob Dylan, as Bob Dylan said, don't think twice. It's all right. Pretty much.

I warned you.  Bob Dylan.

Aren't you glad I avoided the temptation to just type "Bob Dylan"   times?
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About the translation / traduction of Air France Madame Magazine and Nancy Li