It's becoming more and more apparent that I am quite the cat's pajamas with the incarcerated crowd. Jailbirds respond to dapperness. Or perhaps it's my soft, supple hands due to so many years of heavy freeloading under my employment with the Link Worthington II Trust Fund that attract the desperados. Either way, I was pleased this morning to find an offering on my stoop: All neatly wrapped in brown paper... a beautifully painted dual portrait of ME. Me in repose, pipe in pie hole, and me in reflective contemplation. This artist/felon chap truly captured the essence of yours truly. I felt a small dollop of moisture streak down my face. A tear. How peculiar, for I lack the ducts necessary for such facial lubrication. But upon hanging this Masterpiece of Moi, I happened upon a note scrawled in the back:
Seemingly, our penal system offers adroit instructions in the art of art to convicts, but lacks the fundamental tutelage in the science of human biology.
Carl, if you're reading this, I thank you for the painting AND the kind offer to bear your offspring. Unfortunately, I am on permanent birth control known as being a MAN. Perhaps we can adopt?
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