Dear Lisa letter flashback 2006

The following handwritten letter was recently discovered crumpled up, then smoothed, then crumpled up again on the grounds of McKinley Hall:

Dear Lisa,

Sayonara from Mild Horses! It’s an ex-Rolling Stones roadie retirement community in Varicose, Florida. It’s total satisfaction except undercover at night I keep having this repeating nightmare that I’m sleepwalking in my sleep over and over, but when I think I’m waking up, I constantly find I’m still sleeping while walking in my sleep--sort of like awake, but still sleeping. I’m a fool to cry, shattered, with mixed emotions, but under my thumb I’m between a rock and a hard place. It’s a right kufuffle I tell ya. Hey, have you seen my Netflix mail-in pap smear? Must’ve dropped it stopped by a cop for smoking crop in flip-flops, be-boppin to hip-hop and doo wop, playing gnip gnop while reading Hop on Pop to some hopped up Senators I met on Facebook. You can’t always get what you want bitch, but all down the line, I’m just a happy midnight rambler.

I’m lost on Lost—did someone find some P-Funk records or stash of Dharma weed yet in the hatch?

Kristin

Song of the Day:

“Inn” Chris Whitley & The Bastard Club