Dear Guardian,

Where the hell are all my action figures? I go away to school for a couple years, come home, and find that they are all gone. This is some bullshit. Just because I'm twenty years old doesn't mean I still don't love them. All that's left is my Greedo, and he's the dud of the action figure world. He had the drop on Han and he blew it. All he had to do was pull the trigger, instead of just gloating about Jabba. All you had to do was just not touch my stuff for a few months, and like Greedo, you failed.

Do you know how many women would kill for a guy with that many action figures? There goes your grandchildren, because no woman would sleep with a man who doesn't play with his Star Wars guys. Sometimes I wonder if you ever want me to see another pair of breasts, Mom.

I don't care that I'm too old, I don't care that people stare at the playground when I'm in the sandbox with their children. I don't care that you're still mad I interrupted your dinner party by reenacting the Battle of Hoth and drove a Snowspeeder into the fondue. I don't care that you don't care. I'm disowning you.

You couldn't even leave me my wind-up The Flash? He's arguably the fastest man in the world, without steroids. Not even a Transformer? Not even a Beast War era, Optimus Prime gorilla? You know how many, "Going bananas" jokes I have? Why did you even buy them for me if you were just going to take them away ten years later? You should have just shot me and got it over with.

Me and Greedo are leaving. Don't try and find us. Keep sending money though, because, gotta keep the whole school thing going.

Not yours truly,


Dear Geoff,

Remember how I spent eight hours in labour pushing your big fat 15 lb. head out of me? Now we're even. I sent some more socks out to you. Get some more roughage in your diet, you plugged the toilet last time you were here.