My therapist (hired as a direct result from your non-awesomeness) tells me that the best way to relieve my Bengals stress / depression is to write you a fake letter, read it aloud as if you were in the room, and then throw it away. Well guess what? I don't have to do that that today.
Right now I am happy. I mean look at me in that photo - that is a happy face. And the reason for this joyful glee? Because I am going to watch my hometown 1-11-1 football team? - No (improved since photo taken) Because you hired a GM? Obviously not. Because you called me on the phone to apologize for years of mental abuse? Not quite.
I am happy because I am carrying a box of grade-A, custom made, aroma-therapy urinal cakes that directly call out your ineptitude.
And what made me happier? That soon the box of pure heaven would be opened and shared with hundreds of Bengals fans who feel just like me. Who in turn would then share their new found happiness with thousands of fans.
Mike, it literally took me carrying a 45 lb. box of toilet nuggets for my comrades and WDR to make me happy at a Bengals game. Please think about that. What is more absurd? - that this made me happy or that you are such a bad owner that this is the only way I could feel happy at the party you were hosting. I agree. Similar to the frat house collecting $25 at the door for "kegs" only to actually have a six-pack of wine coolers, you are a horrible host.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I am doing better today. I feel good. For one brief moment in time, you couldnt make me cry. Yes, I have pee cake happiness in my soul.
Sincerely, The Tinkle Sprinkler
Above Photo : One Urinal Cake, Thousands of Smiles
** NOTE - A special thank you to the security guard witnessing this photo, instructing me to hurry up with a sly smile, and then directing me back down towards my seat. You are a true friend for not karating chopping me in the eyeball.