Much as I'm a great admirer of your informative and witty blog, I regret our association must come to an end.
When you chose to prostrate yourself naked on my doorstep this Thanksgiving, I greeted your spontaneous arrival with the good hearted generosity appropriate for the occasion, and in spite of the unseemly humour you displayed as you mooned at my next-door neighbour, I bid you welcome to my home. Your subsequent behaviour betrayed so audacious a lack of manners, I am ashamed at myself for sharing a common ancestor with you.
Let me outline my considerable grievances.
Firstly, having spent the better part of Wednesday afternoon preparing an exquisite sage and onion stuffing for the turkey, I would much rather it had found its way into the grateful stomachs of my assembled family rather than being scooped whole from said bird's crisping rectum and hurled like a cannonball at what you mistakenly believed to be (and I quote) a "fucking squirrel." My wife paid $150 for that perm.
Secondly, the Whirl household considers it neither well-mannered nor indicative of comic genius for adults to engage in the lighting of farts while guzzling handfuls of pumpkin pie for "fuel", particularly when the blowtorch employed is slung from the groin in a purpose-built harness.
Finally, although she is still remarkably active for her age, my disabled 96-year-old grandmother no longer gives, nor receives, French kisses.
A lesser man would ostracise you from his life immediately, but in the spirit of giving thanks, I am willing to grant you one final opportunity to take a look at my manuscript before calling on the good Lord to smite you with his most unforgiving wrath till every last breath is beaten from your miserable stinking body.
Up Yours Sincerely,