Dear Justin,
Here’s the scoop on life in the basement on Labor Day 08. My day began with your wife hitting me with the side door. Don’t worry, it wasn’t an act of wanton aggression (I haven’t been living with you that long), it was my own fault. I had just taken a shower and was walking through the kitchen towards the basement when I heard her start to open the door. I was shirtless. My awkwardness sensors registered a high potential, and I experienced what I’m sure you’ve experienced at least once in your life: SHIRTLESS PANIC! So to avoid an awkward, close-quarters, half-naked encounter, I threw myself in front of the door in order to escape into the basement. Which is when I got nailed. I sacrificed my tender, just-washed, rosy pink belly to save face. Luckily my belly is a seasoned veteran of violence (we’ve had El Mezcal how many times since I’ve been back in Wisconsin??!), and it absorbed the blow like your cats absorb food. In retrospect the pain was worth it, the whole situation has inspired me to do more sit-ups. Maybe by next year I will be comfortable having a basement-parade of my new PATRIOTIC ABS OF LABOR 2009!!
Love,
Travis
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