Cindy Margolis

Dear Cindy,

Cindy, even though this has been done to death I would like to take a moment of reflection to thank the lord up above (whichever one you subscribe to) for bestowing upon you a beautiful face, a curvaceous bod and, of course, perfectly aligned teeth.................................................................…………………Way to go!

Now that we have that out of the way let's get down to some serious business. The aforementioned serious business that I speak of is a problem that I have been faced with for quite some time. It's typically embarrassing, often uncontrollable and an overall pain in the ass. My problem is that I have a pain in my ass! Well, not the ass really, it's more of the ass cheek. Right one to be exact, about two paces left of center. Follow the spine south and take a left, however, whatever you do, DO NOT GO THROUGH THE TUNNEL!

It all started when I was a wisecracking whippersnapper of 10 days old. I took everyone by surprise when I came shooting out. Bald head, mustache, mouth packed to the rafters with teeth, I was chain smoking Cubans and hitting on the nurses. After three days in the nursery, I was up ten large. Craps was my game in more ways than one. The Doctors, suburbia learned white boys, fell victim to every scam I pulled. Upon leaving in Dr. Feinstein's convertible black Mazarati, I was pulled over for speeding and reckless endangerment of life. I got off, scott free, sighting Mazarati's failure to design a seat that effectively positioned driving ten-day-olds. Upon suing for gross negligence, I was awarded a settlement of 3.5 mil, only to see it overturned by a glue sniffing appellate court judge with ties to big business and gambling doctors. Crest fallen and disillusioned, I, like Jonathan Sea Gull, did some soul searching. I realized that I had lost control. The fast life, the only life I knew, had taken the reigns as puppet master and now it was my turn to take them back. I decided to shave my mustache and return home a new infant.

I was a year into my new life and had just turned one. I spent the year nursing on my mother's bosom while building my new business from the ground up. Orpheous' Cactus Chair and Porcupine Pillow Warehouse was the name. Stupid idea really, but one thing I've learned in my life is if you advertise, they will buy it. Cindy, you can use that one if you want to. Anyway, business was good until Dr. Feinstein returned seeking revenge. He didn't recognize me without my mustache, but held me at gunpoint none the less. The irate doctor, seething with anger, could barely contain himself, fidgeting about and making the porcupines nervous. "Don't worry," I told him "they won't charge unless you continue to sweat like a fat woman at a buffet." Unfortunately his glandular problems just increased, incensing the quilled pigs. They charged and so did he. During the hail of bullets and quills, I found refuge underneath my cactus desk. Needless to say this fiasco was a publicity nightmare. All the advertising in the world couldn't rescue the business, so I folded up shop and returned home. I started to live the life I was supposed to. I stopped gambling, sold the Mazarati and re-grew the mustache.

That first year of driving really spoiled me and since I sold the car I am forced to use the conventional one-year-old method of transportation. What with all the booze, gambling and the store managing, I'm not as limber as your average one-year-old. This lack of looseness combined with a strong urge for a beer caused me to pull my hammy crawling to the fridge. Don't worry it's just a temporary condition. I'll be good as new in a few days.

Once again I'd like to say "kudos" on the good looks and keep up the good work. Cindy you are a treasure to us all, especially the ones who can vividly remember nursing.

Sincerely,

Orpheous Roy

www.cindymargolis.com