Letters From the Knowingly Undersold Mailbag!

While rummaging through the junk drawer today, looking for uncorroded AA batteries with which to get the Tickle Me Elmo cavorting again, I came across this ol’ blog, tucked squarely beneath the program for a lackluster staging of The Glass Menagerie I dragged friends to in the summer of 2014. Oops! Sorry, folks! I was totally gonna run for president last year and everything! Completely forgot! Could’ve saved us all a lot of trouble!

But I’m more ashamed of how I let the mailbag fill up in these years away, mostly spent in failed experiment to get a solid Twitter following going and then bilk those jokers with $1.99 miracle cures for balding/impotence/senility/strict Bible interpretation guides. Didn’t work! Still broke, and the world still suffers, albeit with cash still in pocket!

Here now I’d like to address some general inquiries (and some more specific) that have swarmed the inbox over the past few years:

Where would I be without my dear readership?

Dear Knowingly Undersold,

Thank you so much for your aggressive take on hating your own children. It’s refreshing to see a publication so honest about their dislike of their offspring and the general opening of criticism it invites on the author’s parenting skills. We also particularly enjoyed your general outline for that sequel to the Bible you had written – it was wonderfully forthright blasphemy unseen and not in vogue for many years on our God-fearing continent. Please sign any future missives with your full name and address, so we can come to your doorstep and thank you fervently and enthusiastically in person.

Fervently and enthusiastically,

L. Toppingham

P.S. Please Come to Boston was my wedding song

 

Dear L. Toppingham,

Thanks for reading.

K.U.

 

Constructive criticism welcome!

Dear Knowingly Undersold,

Yo, help out – I lost contact with a guy from my hometown I met on Snapchat, but I don’t know his real name and the only picture I screenshotted of him is a nude selfie from his neck to his knees. Do you know of a dick pic database that can match me up with him, or do I need to rent that billboard across from the Aldi and blur some nuts?

Cordially,

xoxoBlazzie13

 

Dear xoxoBlazzie13,

I hope you’ve since tracked down your ride-or-die guy, but if not, here is a link to the only dick pic database a quick Google turned up. It won’t be of much help.

K.U.

 

Open discourse is the hallmark of the internet!

Dear Sir or Madam,

Your tone deaf interpretation of the current state of society is virtually impossible to set to music. We have endeavored to do so repeatedly and so far have only achieved one tune vaguely similar to something rattling around the second act of Rent mixed with a few antacid jingles of the past mid-century. Please be more melodic in the expanse of your offerings and less pedantic in your general vocabulary.

Cordially,

L. Wishanter

Cleveland Philharmonic

 

Dear Mr. or Mrs. Wishanter,

I’m fully placing the blame on your lackluster dramatic blog adaptation courses in college or high school, correspondence course or DIY YouTube video or wherever they teach such things.

K.U.

 

Point taken!

Dear Knowingly Undersold,

*you’re

*whether

*frijoles

*Saddam

*Kant

*defenestration 

Please consider an editor, or at the very least, don’t work so hard to ignore spellcheck.

Sin-surly,

M. Buttermouth

 

Dear M. Buttermouth,

Corrections made! Thanks. Also, I’m sure “sin-surly” is some manner of joke, but Jesus Christ I hope not, in which case – *sinserely

Boom! In your face!

K.U.

 

Age is just a number when measured in rage!

Dear Knowingly Uninformed,

What else could I hope to expect from a liberal, fake news, bullshit publication like yours than your recent post? Stick to telling your (bad) jokes about (lame) subjects you (barely) know best and leave the heavy thinking to the knowledgeable and well read! You may not relate to the middle of the country, or vast reaches of the coasts, godforbid the mountain areas, or the swampy swamps, but it’s this “gargling gaggle” that does all the real living and breathing and sweating and fornicating in this country, enabling you to flounce on your fat duff and think up your cushy, entitled, proselytizing genius sermons! (Sarcasm! Get it? I doubt it.)

(Crude drawing of the male reproductive organ in the style of many tattoo parlors)

 

Dear Penis on Fire,

I don’t know what specific post inspired this response, but I’m 100% confident you’re correct in your assessment. Sorry about that.

K.U.

 

We will try to be more forthcoming and prompt in future responses! Thanks for your continued patronage!

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