I receive a dozen or so emails a day that are posted to an Internet bulletin board subscribed to by humor professionals. Every once in a while, somebody pushes the wrong button and everyone on the list gets to read something that should have stayed private. Here is a real email posted to the group...

Sweetie:
 
I've been missing you something fierce. How are you? Are you performing like crazy and getting more and more brilliant by leaps and bounds? I know you are. Are we still on for Friday, Honey? Hope so. I've already promised Lily we're going for a little jaunt up there to see you and Dorothy, et al.
 
I haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately, thanks to Sophie the Mexican poochita. Oh, she is so adorable I can't stand it. Jim is barely speaking to me but I have finished trying to kiss his resentful ass as of today and I think he's getting the message. No more cold shoulder from him, thank you very much. If I want 20 puppies, then I'm going to have them and if he doesn't like it he can move himself out of here and into a crummy studio apt and turn into a bitter old butthead. So it's all good. You'll love the baby and I wish I could bring her, too, but I could also use a couple of hours off. All I do is walk dogs, clean up messes and try to help in the massive reorganization. That's it. Cannot WAIT to see you and I think of you every single day. You're the greatest.
 
Love, love,
 
Sharie

This sounded pretty spicy and incriminating. A resentful wife. An inferred affair and possibly even an extra-marital exploit involving a foursome! I should have left it alone. But, here is my reply - actually sent - and posted to the group...

My darling,

Oh, yes, we are still on for Friday. I live for Friday. Friday is my Grail, my Mecca. If only I could remember exactly what we're doing on Friday. I hope it involves Lily and Dorothy. Sounds kinky, but I'm up to it (out of the cast since Tuesday).

Glad to hear you are getting so much rest. And, happier still that it has something to do with your unnatural attraction to animals. I've tried the whole "Mexican poochita" thing, but it left me with fleas and an arrest warrant. For these reasons, I cannot risk going back to Arizona.

I've been thinking about Jim and his "resentful ass." How it pains me to see you withering and suffering in his shadow; enduring his cold shoulder and puppy resentment. I don't want to push you, but we've waited for so long, and Jim's buttheadedness is hurting you - hurting us. I don't want to push you into anything drastic, but I care too much about you and the dogs to ignore your pain any longer.

I've been thinking about our conversation last week. I've also been thinking of Jim's generous life insurance policy. If you want, I can make that call to Carlos. He says it will be quick and painless. Better than Jim deserves. You would like Carlos. He also has a thing for dogs. A sizeable "down payment" could put the wheels of our plan into motion. I know you are hesitant. I was hesitant, too, until I heard about that insurance money. Sweet Jesus, think of all the puppies that would buy!

Think of it, my darling. A life without care and without Jim the Butthead. Dare I wish it? Dare I fantasize about our beach house with puppies and occasional visits from Lily and Dorothy? It seems too good to be true. Let me know about Carlos.

Sharie, you'll never know how much you mean to me. Jim's money is only a secondary consideration when I think of us - together - telling jokes and playing with puppies and buying expensive, useless things. No one understands you like I do. Not Jim. Not the puppies. Not those nosey bastards on the bulletin board. How clueless they are, unaware of what we have. I pity them.

Love love and more love
Ross

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