Dear dear,
Elvis Becker, who often goes by the pseudonym Jonathan G. Sallowill, totally just sat down in my cubicle. He's in from Texas on business, and I've never seen mother quite so proud. Father, on the other hand, told ol' Johnny boy to shape up or ship on, as his beard's grown for more than a fortnight and he has the appearance of looking all too well fed. His credentials now represent everything a young Slovakian would like to have appear on a paper resume. E.J., however, prefers to keep everything tip top in the digital world, running amuck with blogging scallywags all too crafty for his diagnosed attention deficit, growing worse every day. As cyberspace continues to grow, so does his impatience with everything paper and palpable, and he's found himself very well doomed and damned.
He's gone now - So far gone. We may have lost him for good in what we've come to know as our great tangible world of papers, metals and liquids. But he lives on most certainly and infinitesimally in megabytes and email stories for all of the ages to come - That dear ol' Johnny boy.
Sincerely
Curtis von Tacky
I'd arrest you if I had handcuffs.
