People who live in clay houses shouldn't throw … uh … what do you think? Water balloons?
Enclosed in this box you will find most of what you asked be returned to you. Here are your books, your Blu-rays, your cheap-o earphones, and that stupid robot vacuum cleaner. The dental floss you insisted I return because “you paid for it” is here. Also, while I’m not entirely certain why it’s so important I give you this specific towel, but here you go. I washed it, though, just to let you know. I hope that didn’t ruin whatever weird thing you’ve got going on with it. No, wait, I hope it did, actually.
Now then, on to the little matter of the Clayhouse Petite Sirahs you wanted back. Mainly, why that won’t be happening.
You see, Brad, I was pretty upset after chasing you and.. Oh, what was her name? Tramp? Hussy? The Collagen Experiment Gone Awry? Whatever. Basically, it wasn’t pleasant getting the two of you out of our bedroom and apartment. It took me a minute to control my thoughts and emotions, particularly the ones that told me I should burn all your stuff in the backyard immediately.
So, I decided to have a glass of wine, your 2009 Clayhouse Estate Old Vines Petite Sirah, to be exact. The white pepper, plum, toast, and blackberry aromas actually had a very calming effect on me, even as I read through the emails in your “Secret Emails” folder detailing just how long you’d been cheating on me. I nearly spit a whole mouthful of cleansing, firm tannins on the screen when I found the naughty photos you’d been sending her. Also, for your information, “Bradisrad27” is not a very secure password.
It wasn’t until I opened a bottle of the 2009 Clayhouse Estate Block 87 Petite Sirah, though, that I finally came to terms with everything. Maybe it was the tight tannins and lingering finish, maybe it was the ripe plum, blackberry, and white pepper, I don’t know, but I really found myself at peace when I posted those pictures I found to every single social media site I could sign up for. I know you said this wine would improve in the bottle through 2015, but it tasted pretty good at that particular moment, I have to say.
Let’s just call those two bottles of 2009 Clayhouse Estate Old Vines Petite Sirah and two bottles of 2009 Clayhouse Estate Block 87 Petite Sirah a sort of Asshat Tax, shall we, Brad? Think of it as the cost of doing business. But to show you there are truly no hard feelings, I’ve also thrown in the unused portions of the box of tampons you bought when you purchased your precious floss. They’re technically yours, anyway.