Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Secret Agent Man

Dear Secret Agent Man,

Why, oh why, do you insist on being crabby? Why can't you smile at me? I smiled at you. All I wanted to do was to go into my building with my lunch of vegetable soup...but Noooooo you had to make me walk around the block to go in a different door.

I am up to nothing! I promise! I really do work here. And now you made me feel like I did something wrong. I really just want to go home...let me go to work and then go home. It simpler there, I think you would like it...you trade that suit for something more comfortable. I can teach you to whistle with grass and make the groundhogs stand up...c'mon! It'll be fun.

Yours truly,
Country Mouse

**The preceding was in response to all of the ridiculousness that is surrounding the political proceedings in the city in which I work. Michelle Obama happens to be speaking next door...right now. And due to that...my city has turned into a gigantic mess of men in suits, men in uniform, men with microphones, and men on bicycles. I am not sure where the bicycles come into play...but I have noticed a great deal of them today. Oh, and you just learned something else about me! I work downtown, which makes me feel more and more like a country mouse in a town mouse world**

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