Brutha,
Dig,like I dig you the most, dig? I dig your flip, and your riff, and the place your wig is at, dig? Now did this the most, dig?
a hepcat like you, being the cats pajamas, dig, writes such finery for youth. Why is there no Manus Jrs running about? Why no Jill Jrs? Why no little alan Mendelson Pinkawaters or perhaps a Walter Galt Jr? I have met you, my hep friend, have submitted work to you, admire and respect you, now this my great guru of the jelly donut I must know….for sooth whyfore hast thou not sprung forth fruit from thy loins? in short… why dontcha got a kid? Youd be the perfect papa being such a kid yourself.
I regard your fatha, the eminent George, as my spiritual descendent--thus, I am your grandpappy, in a sort of hideous manner of speaking. (You must stop this unnerving fixation on hipster patois--and get a haircut). Nice to hear from you, you bongoing crazy man.
