Anne Frank to Bridget Jones
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2005-07-14 21:54:04 (UTC)

the mystery of the black rocket

A strange thing happened to me at work yesterday. I was
going about my business when a letter addressed to me
arrived. This is weird to begin with, Ive never gotten a
letter at work before. It was the long business type
envelope, with the blue crosshatching on the inside. It
felt almost empty, except for a flat bump on one side. My
heart thumps, my stomach lurches and my mind races. The
media has done its job, I think of anthrax, smallpox. Why,
I could be the very first in a nationwide trend. Open
sores? Very 2005.

I eagerly open the envelope.

I opened it up and found nothing in it except for a patch.
Its bullet shaped, featuring a black rocket on a field of
red and yellow.


I study the patch for a few minutes. "Maybe its someone
telling you that 'youre the bomb!'" a cheerful inner voice
says. It reminds me of a boy scout patch. Oh great, thats
just what mobs of impressionable boyscouts on the brink of
testosterone eruption need to be learning about. The more I
look at the black rocket, the more phallic it seems. Maybe
it was from a man I slept with. No, the letter was adressed
to me. None of the men I sleep with know my real name.

I examine the envelope. Postmarked Seattle WA 981 July 1st.
I am stumped by the ambiguious handwriting in perfect
cursive. Its impossible to tell if the elegant curled "y"s
came from a woman or a fancy man.

The only thing I could think of that makes any sort of
sense at all is the Discovery launch yesterday. But, I dont
typically hang out with NASA nerds, so I have no clue.

Ill just take this as my proper initiation into the boy

Hide your children!

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