Dear Mrs. Steve Phillips

It has been a while since I last wrote to you but I don't want you to think I forgot about you. Cunt.

My life has been very difficult the past year. Ever since I lost the job at the massage parlor because my best trick AL was in the news I have to sleep in my Acura. You know the same Acura I had sex with your husband in. THREE TIMES! I wasn't just a casual fling like that secretary in the Met's spring training that sued him or Ann Curry. I was special! Steve always told me that not anyone could wear the Mr Met's head and give head like I could.

When Petey Gaamons threw me out of the assisted living facility I only had my massage skills to fall back on and now I have a new gig. I am working children's parties as a clown. I dress up as Susie Sparkles and do tricks and stuff. I also do bachelor parties and dress up like a bunny and turn tricks. A girl has to do what a girl has to do.

Anyways I hear that you and Stevie have fallen on hard times. His book was a flop and nobody will hire him to talk about baseball. He flunked out of sex rehab and had to move back into your basement. I have been thinking about relocating to the East Coast and I had an idea.

We can all get married. Or in your case remarried. Then we can sue to have the government recognize us as a couple. Or a triple. Or something. I mean if the homos can do it we can make some money off it too!

We can even get a reality show out of it. It has everything. Sex. Marriage. Infidelity. Violence. Bigamy. Polgyamy. Pygmies.  Well you are really short so we can pretend. I am sure we can sell it to TLC. I once fleched the producer of "Honey Boo Boo" so I have an in. So talk to Steve about. He can't sit in pjamas and masturbate to old "Facts of Life" reruns all the time.

So lets talk. Oh I would tell your kids to watch out who they friend on their Instagram. They might like all those photos of a shaved chucky but they don't know it is from. And tell them to look both ways when they cross the street.

You too. Especailly if you see a brown Acura with a busted back window.

Toodles,
Your friend and future sister wife,
Brooke.