I am writing this in case I die this week. The dreaded Hawkman flu will not leave my family alone. I have had a cold for it seems like the last month. This damn thing will just not go away. I think I have kicked it and it comes back stronger. I sit here tonight hoping it is not my last night alive. If it is, then I would not be able to report all the hoopla to you. Here is what I have since the last time I wrote you.
Neckbone/BirdFluMan still hates his job and is looking for new employment. Imagine that. The grass is not always greener on the other side. You run from one demon (lies) and smack dab into another one (actual work). I will keep you posted on his job status and start accepting donations should he end up jobless.
The Human Tumor might be coming back. He had an interview with The Company and might be on his way to gainful employment again. Hopefully his fake tumor will not resurface again after I vouched for his lazy ass. Do you know hard it is to say good things about someone while thinking about how he laid on the couch for months while Sugar Plum fairies danced around his overgrown noggin.
The tennis season seems to be on continued hiatus. I realize that I will never get to play Neckbone again but hopefully soon the rest of us can get some matches in before the winter. Maybe this week guys?
Rumor central. Mini-Paul is not happy in the Midwest. At least not with The Company. He is looking for other sources of income. Given all his other skills, he should have no problem. As long as there is always a market for Boy Scout troop leaders or potato gun shooters, he will always be employed. WHAT? There is not a high demand for those things? DAMN, he might be ass-out.
Our other midwest friend, Lumpy, is eagerly awaiting his first spawn. We can all wish him the best and wish the best for the little one - Don't look like daddy. Don't look like daddy.
I don't have much status on the Ebone, except for the fact that he is not a liar anymore. He is now a prevaricator. I had to come up with a new name for someone that good. They finally told him, "You got nothing new for us, we got nothing new for you." Basically technical speak for 'Don't call us, we'll call you'. Hey Ebone, your phone won't be ringing.
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Mrs. Lumpy has signed the Lump up with a, let's call it, "Daddy Class" at a local hospital. Lumpy wants to make sure that he knows how to care for the postman's baby. Tony
I talked to the Lumpster. I told him to pin it on the UPS man and get it in writing. No matter what the kid will have more hair than foster dad Lump.
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