"Dear Mom and Dad,
Staying out of trouble at Camp Titan here in Tennessee is a lot harder than I thought it'd be. Today I got into a big fight when someone tried to bully one of my new friends. We were all playing football when this big guy tossed one of my teammates to the ground. I got really, really mad and hit him with my right hand, also known as the one thing that keeps us living in our cozy mansion and driving fancy cars.
My camp counselor, Mr. Fisher, says he's glad I stick up for the little guys. But he says if I hurt my hand punching fellow campers, we'll both wind up spending next summer in Colorado at Camp Crush. It's owned by some guy named John Elway.
So mom and pop, I think I've learned my lesson. Throw with the left then let the guys bigger than me finish the job. By the way, I'm running low on cash and porn. Hope a care package is headed my way.
Love always,
Li'l Vince "
Letters from Camp
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2 comments:
Dear Li'l Vince,
After further review, your father and I have decided that you should not refer to your open-handed slap as a "big fight."
A "big fight" is what happens when your ass lands on the Superdome turf, if you don't start focusing on the training camp task at hand.
Do not disappoint. I've already told you that I can give up the new lifestyle any time I like, but you keep me from being the next Campbell's Chunky Soup mom, and I'll wear your adult ass out.
Don't forget to change your underwear and drink plenty of liquids.
I love my big boy,
Ma
Nice!
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