Letter Body
“Epistle's Erudition” is the opening paragraph.
She left the house after refusing to wipe herself clean after I directed her to her own toilet, bathroom, to do so. No, I will not wipe her ass. God Almighty got her to share her shit with that stunt of hers. I enjoyed three nights without the pall of her company. I completed restoring the old rusted Schwinn "Gateway" I found at the Flower Bluff Goodwill two winters ago for twenty-one dollars and forty-some-odd cents. I rearranged the living room and front library then yesterday I rearranged My office. This was the work interspersed with Pentagon lectures. Mumsy has decided to start imbibing. My bicycle is all assembled and needs tuning. It also needs a handle-bar cup holder and a rear basket. I want something wicker. An authentic basket to sit on the rear bike rack. The mini-me Mumsy concocted was an abuse of Lady Wisdom. Mumsy went after building a new version of her, off Me, to be tortured for everyone. I, as flesh, was required to be tortured and kept alive, right alongside mini-me's life. Mini-me is repurposed with Pecking Peter. So now everyone gets to go to Hell. We are bringing purgatory online for all the present Hell bound populous first. It is unlikely that any now living will opt to do the work to not go to Hell even given the opportunity in purgatory.
Where did "ziczac" come from? Well, My OED app on My i-phone has a "Word of the Day" feature. Yesterday's word of the day was sicsac. That is the alternate spelling of the Arabic origin ziczac meaning crocodile bird. A plover dentist for the Nile croc. I saw that word, and in My shear joy code named you. That is infinitely more suave than "Little Devil." You want to benefit Russia, and its people, by having the nation back My ministry? You have from April 1 to Christmas 2025. What you have ahead, after a long sleep, is a sweet deal. No worse that being a mayor really. It is time to head out for a morning walk. You want to shake up the world? Set Me up in Tel-Aviv.
The Pentagon has a Daddy Warbucks offer on the table for the April 1 to Christmas 2025 period. Send a one star or better general to marry mumsy; use the house as his/her permanent address; divide half his/her income to support this house, no consummation required, and the Pentagon gets to use the mini-me power until mumsy dies. I think what I have offered you is consistently more doable, and less mean. That they are assholes to Me, withholding wages and forcing slavery taking advantage of My patriotism, is just a continued function of military service in the way I have known them.