| Jon's Corner |
10/30/2004 |
by Jon
Welcome to Jon's Corner. A pleasent little nook where all the world can divulge their problems in hopes of sound and caring advice. Today we have a letter from Robert, a teenager who's fighting for recognition from his family.
Dear Jon,
All my life I have been plagued by my family, only wanting their love and admiration but never being able to render it. Their expectations of their children are extremely high, but in ways that I just can never commit myself too. You see my name is Bob Voorhies, I am brother of the infamous mass murderer Jason Voorhies.
Jason is my older brother and everybody just raves about him.
"Oh look who Jason mamed today!" They say. "Did you hear who Jason kidnapped and locked in the trunk of his car this morning?"
Everyone is so exalted after Jason comes home with another headless body. But no one ever says a thing when I make my oatmeal pancakes with only 2 grams of net carbs.
I feel unappreciated Jon. My father is always yelling at me to steal more cars and experiment with a new range of weapons. For example, I recently finished crocheting a life quilt for our family. It was a heart-felt display of our undying spirit and integrity. One square was a sunset closing over the beautiful green hills of South America. Another was a picture of a newborn baby draped in a silk nightgown to represent family growth. I was all set for the unveiling ceremony but when I tried to show my family they wouldn't listen. Jason had apparently just killed a toll booth collector with a dust pan and they were all going to TGI Fridays to celebrate.
My mom tried to turn me onto the savage way of life long ago. I remember sitting down for lunch at school and along with my ham sandwich I would find a note from my mother telling me how much she loved me, and also telling me that I should kill my math teacher. Or when I told her about this girl I wanted to ask to the school dance. She suggested that I stab her with a pitchfork instead, "Like your older brother did so well."
They just don't understand Jon. I'm a muffin baker, not a life taker. How can I make them love me for who I am?
-Bob V.
Dear Bob,
Pussy.
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