Dear Hons,

I have not been able to get to all the letters from December. They are piled so high I can barely see Fenwick from the hide-a-bed.

In order to address them all, I will simply provide the answers here. You will know who you are.

Dear “T” in Georgia,
Perhaps it is simply a case of lactose intolerance. You should see a physician to be sure. Meanwhile, hon, please do not walk near open flame.

Dear “S” in Poughkeepsie,
A better choice would be to create a PowerPoint presentation and explain your preferences photographically.

Dear “F” in Manhattan,
Oh hon, return the man to his full and upright position.

Dear “Q” in Ames,
A dorm room is no place for a still. You should’ve picked a college near mountains.

Dear “R” in Loveland,
No, hon, you will not go to jail for money laundering after accidentally washing a $20 in your husband’s pants.

Dear “F” at the Dollar,
A really good way to get your wife’s attention is to procure a lovely piece of diamond jewelry and present it with air tickets to the Caribbean. (Fenwick, of course I knew that was you, hon! Spam burger for lunch?)

I.B. Crabby

You shouldn't have!

Tell Mrs. Crabby all!

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