An Open Letter To A Big Red Girl

Dear Red,

I know you're scared tonight. Hell, I'm scared too. It's been snowing for an hour now. I coulda swore I saw a flake or two stick. It mighta been my cataracts. You're scared for different reasons, though. Going under the knife is pretty risky business. And not in the cool Tom Cruise jumping on couches way, either. I'm talking 'bout the hold your boots and shit your pants kinda risky business.

If I was the type to falsify statistics for dramatic effect, I'd say that I've got a 12% chance of sliding off the icy roads into a telephone poll tonight. You? I'd probably say you've got a one in four chance of sudden respiratory failure. That or a severe allergic reaction to the anesthesia. But I'm not the type to make up bullshit like that, so cheer up. You'll be fine. I'm 85% sure of it.

Obama's inauguration is tomorrow. That's something to get optimistic about. I'm not sure how close you follow politics, but it's important. Some people don't think so. But it is. It affects everyone. Even you. The better the economy does, the more treats we can afford to buy you. Lord knows you love your doggy treats. A lot of churches around here are calling this the End of Days. Don't believe 'em. Even if Obama is the anti-Christ, it'll take him months to organize his army of demons. At worst, this is the End of Months- Years possibly.

Yo Momma's worried about you. She says she hates you, but she's worried. I'm not worried 'cause I know you'll do fine. Havin' a doctors cold steel tool slap against your wiffer can't be too different than Ernies wet fleshy tool. And hopefully the operation will decrease your fragrant girl smell. I'm pretty sure that's what causes Ernie to go so crazy for you. That and your sweet ass. Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow morning when I pick you up.

Love,
Yo Daddy