Fred Responds//The Rest of our IntraManorial Conversation

So last night I fired off an email to Sweet Fred, allowing as to how I had a serious case of the blues and that he was not to take my reticence personally.  We email each other fairly frequently, despite also having numerous opportunities to exchange greetings live-and-in-person throughout the day and night.

Living in a place like Marlinspike Hall can make keeping up with one another a challenge.  There are so many details to which, as caretakers, we must attend, that the minutia of our relationship tend to fall by the wayside, often landing smack-dab in the middle of our algae-choked moat.

Never one to mistake seriousness for levity, but definitely the sort to confound a joke for something really sober, Fred decided to cover his [innocent] bases with a blanket apology:

From: fancy_fredster
Sent: Sunday, April 17, 2011 2:47 AM
To: prof-de-rien
Subject: Re: saturday evening


My Dear Prof


My dear, Prof! I'm sorry you're not feeling well. It's 2.30AM and I just checked my email for the first time since this afternoon. I had no idea you were or weren't any of those things. I hope you feel better by the time you read this.


I'm sometimes unable to tell when something is meant to be humorous rather than serious. Snarky and rude though I may be, I wasn't aware that I'd crossed over to the dark side today. If I did I apologize. It was unintentional.


I'm going to read your blog post now.


Ta Ta (the greeting, not the breast)
Fred

I concluded our flurry of communication this morning as I sipped on some coffee and considered the day before me.  Next to getting a long, handwritten letter from the President of the United States, an email from Fred is a nifty way to kick things off. 

It occured to me, though, that I needed to let him off his imaginary hook. 

Very truly yours, Hollis Greene.
[I love the Hollis Green character from Big Love -- and I am never going to have a fitting occasion to say that -- primarily, of course, because I am not Hollis Greene, but secondarily because it doesn't seem as remarkable a bunch of five words when seen in print.]

Darling SweetButt


Your timely response brought a gentle grimace to my scaly visage. A propos of naught but the opportunity to use “à propos”: It’s 8:33 AM.


Perhaps calling you snarky and rude was a bit over the top, especially given that the accusatory adjectives were, as you surmised, tossed about entirely in jest.


Part of me (We’ll call her Brunhilda **) wants to say: “Here’s a quarter. Go buy a sense of humor!”
Another part of me (Rebecca Anne) rushes to reassure you that you now have A Spare in the Apology Account.


The Either/Or blog post seems stupid today. It seemed insightful and clever yesterday. Too bad I just couldn’t say: Man o man, these assholes keep doing the shittiest things... Look how they want to stick it to the environment. All those babies that they’re gonna force to be borned won’t have a planet to live on!


I hope you have a marvelous Sunday with the Militant Feminist Existential Lesbians.(cleverly disguised as “diverse” by comingled male heterosexuals and transgendered Little People).

courtesy of The Cimmerian

Titties to you, too.
Love, The Prof


** “A large, disgusting, dangerous white girl (preferably German) who loves sex and likes to manhandle unsuspecting white males.” – courtesy of The Urban Dictionary

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud."
(1 Cor. 13:4)