Dear Marshal,
After careful consideration I have decided to move forward with your ideas for my Secret Santa present.
At first I was a bit skeptical, but I now see the error in my judgment. I should never have doubted you in all of your fucking infinite wisdom and insight. You are one all knowing son of a bitch... did you know that?
I mean seriously, where would I be without your preternatural vision into my psyche? Broken and burned out in some alley or homeless shelter in Ozone park most likely.
So Susan Rosen will be receiving a used $3.20 Starbucks card, a hard pack of Marlboro Reds (Cowboy Killers), a copy of Hustler magazine form October of 1987, and a Polaroid picture of my cousin Joesph standing in front of needle exchange clinic.
Please accept this email as both a thank you, and as an apology for second guessing you and your never-ending comprehension of everything on the face gods green earth.
Best Wishes,
Jenson
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Needle_exchange
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