We're still chomping at the bit to get our hands on any of the seven self-published tomes Michael Brown has written about his greatness, including how awesome he is at hunting dangerous game like giraffes. In the meantime, we have the unpublished Letters to Sophie, which we kicked off with an excerpt last week.
Unlike other letters, this one has a title -- "Sophie Must Cry." After reading it, we're still not sure why Sophie must cry. Endure years of therapy because her dad's a freak, sure, but cry? Maybe y'all can help us with that one. Here, then, is our second installment. Note that all the weird spelling and punctuation is taken verbatim from his letters.
I am writing this book for my sweet darling daughter Sophie and my dear sweet unborn daughter who I hope withh be called Roxanne Rianna Brown -- "Roxy." I love you so damn much babies....You two sweet smart babies whom I adore are the purpose and love of my life. You two are genetically programmed with such___intelligence as to make most cower in disbelief. How, fucking ever you too unfortunately have your mothers genetic constitution to be unbelievably cold hearted bitches...I am sorry for fucking your mother instead of someone else.
QUE intellect [arrow] fucking TOUCHED
You baby girls are my pride and joy. Unbelievably and unabashedly I will tell you I, yes I am the fucking alpha male and live to suit my dick until you two sweet children of GOD came along and now I live and breath for your happiness and God's fulfillment.....Well my sweet baby girls I am your only SANE protector and I must PROTECT you two from your loving mother's idiocy and lunacy. I love you both and know you are part of GOD'S Plan. Sweet baby girls love your mother but PITY her for she is not even slightly worthy and contributory to your genetic constitution. The smart is from me the bitchy her. Sorry, she had a nice ass and I was hard.
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!
Man, that last part is almost a haiku. He should seriously think about a second career writing greeting cards.