The Monday Morning Mirth

Tag: Dearest John

  • The Twelve Days of Christmas

    December 14, 1972

    My dearest darling John:

    Who ever in the whole world would dream of getting a real Partridge in a Pear Tree? How can I ever express my pleasure. Thank you a hundred times for thinking of me this way.

    My love always, Agnes

    December 15, 1972

    Dearest John:

    Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine two turtle doves. I’m just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just adorable.

    All my love, Agnes

    December 16, 1972

    Dear John:

    Oh! Aren’t you the extravagant one. Now I must protest. I don’t deserve such generosity, three French hens. They are just darling but I must insist, you’ve been too kind.

    All my love, Agnes

    December 17, 1972

    Dear John:

    Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really, they are beautiful, but don’t you think enough is enough. You are being too romantic.

    Affectionately, Agnes

    December 18, 1972

    Dearest John:

    What a surprise. Today the postman delivered five golden rings, one for every finger. You’re just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, all those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves.

    All my love, Agnes

    December 19, 1972

    Dear John:

    When I opened the door today there were actually six geese laying on my front steps. So you’re back to the birds again huh? These geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can’t sleep through the racket. Please stop.

    Cordially, Agnes

    December 20, 1972

    John:

    What’s with you and those freaking birds?? Seven swans a swimming. What kind of damn joke is this? There’s bird poop all over the house and they never stop the racket. I can’t sleep at night and I’m a nervous wreck. It’s not funny. So stop those freaking birds.

    Sincerely, Agnes

    December 21, 1972

    O.K. Buster:

    I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with 8 maids a milking? It’s not enough with all those birds and 8 maids a milking, but they had to bring their damn cows. There is manure all over the lawn and I can’t move in my own house. Just lay off me, smartass.

    Agnes

    December 22, 1972

    Hey Shithead:

    What are you? Some kind of sadist? Now there’s nine pipers playing. And Christ do they play. They’ve never stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are getting upset and they’re stepping all over those screeching birds. What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict me.

    You’ll get yours! Agnes

    December 23, 1972

    You rotten prick:

    Now there’s ten ladies dancing. I don’t know why I call those sluts ladies. They’ve been balling those pipers all night long. Now the cows can’t sleep and they’ve got diarrhea. My living room is a river of shit. The Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn’t be condemned.

    I’m calling the police on you! Agnes

    December 24, 1972

    Listen Fuckhead:

    What’s with those eleven lords a leaping on those maids and ladies? Some of those broads will never walk again. Those pipers ran through the maids and have been committing sodomy with the cows. All twenty-three of the birds are dead. They’ve been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you’re satisfied, you rotten vicious swine.

    Your sworn enemy, Agnes

    December 25, 1972

    Dear Sir:

    This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McHolstein. The destruction, of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Miss McHolstein at Happy Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have been instructed to shoot you on sight. With this letter please find attached a warrant for your arrest.

    Cordially, Law Offices of Badger, Bender and Chole

  • The Twelve Days of Christmas

    My Dearest Darling John,

    I went to the door today and the postman delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a delightful gift. Thank you darling for the lovely thought.

    Your ever loving, Agnes.

    15th December

    My Dearest John,

    Today the postman brought two very sweet turtle doves. I am delighted. They are adorable.

    All my love forever, Agnes.

    16th December

    Dearest John,

    Oh how extravagant you are. I really must protest. I don’t deserve such generosity. Three French hens. I insist you are too kind.

    Your ever loving, Agnes.

    17th December

    What can I say. Four calling birds arrived this morning with the postman. Your kindness is too much.

    Love Agnes.

    18th December

    My Dearest John,

    What a surprise! Today the postman delivered five gold rings. One for each finger. You really are an impossible boy, but I love you. Frankly, all the birds are beginning to squawk and get on my nerves.

    Your ever loving Agnes.

    19th December

    Dear John,

    When I opened the door this morning there were actually six bloody great geese laying eggs all over my front step. What on earth do you think I can do with them all? The neighbours are beginning to smell them and I cannot sleep.

    Please stop.

    Yours fondly, Agnes.

    20th December

    John,

    What is it with you and these sodding birds? Now I get seven swans a swanning. Is it some sort of goddamned joke? The house is full of bird shit and it is not funny anymore.

    Stop sending bloody birds.

    Yours Agnes.

    21st December

    OK Buster,

    Think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with eight maids a milking? It’s enough with all these birds and now I have eight cows shitting all over the house and mooing all night.

    Lay off, Agnes.

    22nd December

    Look craphead, What are you, some kind of a nut? Now I have nine pipers playing and Christ do they play. When they’re not playing their sodding pipes they are screwing the maids. The cows are treading all over the bloody birds and the neighbours are threatening to get me evicted.

    Get knotted, Agnes.

    23rd December

    You Rotten Bastard,

    Now I have ten ladies dancing. How on earth you can call these whores "ladies" is beyond me. They are blowing the pipers all night long, the cows can’t sleep and have diarrhoea. My living room is a sea of shit and the landlord has just declared the building unfit for human habitation.

    Piss off, Agnes.

    24th December

    Listen Shithead, What with eleven lords leaping all over the maids and me, I shall never walk again. The pipers are fighting the lords for the crumpet and committing sodomy with the cows. The birds are all dead and rotting having been trampled on during the orgy. I hope you are satisfied you tosser.

    Your sworn enemy, Agnes.

    25th December

    You Stinking Lousy Bastard, Twelve drummers have teamed up with the pipers in making one hell of a din. Both have begun buggering the lords as well as the cows and Christ knows what has happened to the milk-maids. They’ve probably drowned in the cow shit by now. The only way I have saved myself from being fucked to death is by hiding up that sodding pear tree which has been so well fertilised by shit that it’s grown through the bloody roof.

    FUCK OFF AND DIE, Agnes.