Dear Sarah and Melissa,
Here we sit upon a rock
In Central park where the people flock.
We were not at all surprised to find
The Yanks have all been terribly kind.
So now we spread our wings and fly
To bonny old England across the sky!
J.S. AND EDGEY LOVE AMERICA!
By the pond in Central Park, New York
Ciao!
J.S. and Edgey
Dear Sarah and Melissa,
Well, who says that New Yorkers are the rudest narcissistic bunch of people on the face of the planet! We hit the town and ended up at Lombardi’s Pizza. And you will never guess who we ran into?!?!?!
We almost got lost in there!
Troy was there with two buxom women and a jolly tall fellow. At one point we thought we might be lost in cleavage forever!
Just hanging about on the town.
The pizza at Lombardi’s is apparently quite famous. They are credited with the inventors of Pizza in the United States. Big call.
Can’t talk, eating!
Chowing down.
J.S. and Edgey
Dear Sarah & Melissa,
Well what a horrible time we’ve had. We’ve been trying to get a message to you surreptitiously, but it took an escape the size that even Steve McQueen has never known to find freedom once more.
It all began at a quite little barbeque where as you can see on the table, we were even so kind to provide Tim Tams to this shingdig.
My my Miss American Pie (on the plate next to us), what a jolly time we have had. Such culinary delights we have never known. So much faux versions of real food. We could feel the carbs sliding onto our thighs.
But then we were forced into the kitchen and made to work our little plastic arses off.
We scrubbed and we cleaned on plates and dishes and surfaces that we think have never known scrubbing or cleaning before.
But the worse was yet to come. Next was the laundry. Piles and piles of laundry. We were swamped with unatural man made fibres. So many tubes of dermatological cream had to be applied to stop the rash. At one point Edgey was almost lost in a rather buxom brassiere! He was almost lost forever in there.
The nights were the hardest. So many bedtime stories by J.K. Rowling and Stephanie Meyer had to be read. A man should never have to see the things we have that lie between these sheets, like week old twinkies, feral dog hair, etc …
Fortunately we were rescued by a young goddess who offered to smuggle us back across the New Jersey border, over the turnpike, and back into the metropolis of New York, while she distracted our obductors with a rather rockin’ Mylie Cyrus impersonation.
We have had our plastic tested for every known disease under the sun, and somehow the dematological cream warded off even the swine flu.
Must go rest. Losing strength just writing this.
Yours in convelescence,
J.S. and Edgey
Can’t talk. Lining stomach with carbs, fat and sugar. We love you Dunkin’ Donuts!
And can someone please turn the sun down.
Where’s the asprin and the porcelain bus?
Laters.
Dear Chicks,
Well, (hic) we made it to … ummm (hic) … Manshattan. (hic)
The beer ish like totally cool. Oh my god, we can shee Brooklyn. (hic)
And there was this totally cook chick (hic) who like shpilt crap all over her lovely … (hic) ummm … jacket.
I want some wine! Oh look at me mom, I can stand up! Well, (hic) almost.
Gotta go. Think we’re gonna pwuke. (hic)
J.S. and Edgey
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