I just had myself a good laugh.
Went out to the mailbox – rifled through the junkmail…
Pulled out a postcard from The Cruise’s church.
I’m not one to point fingers — but that handwritin’ sho nuff looks like it could belong to someone whose name begins with the letter B. WRONG!
I found it particularly amusing that it was addressed to “Kevin Yezbick’s house.”
HAR HAR.
Update: (2:49am) It took the after-effects of ingesting mass amounts of Little Caesar’s (Hungry Howie’s, must’ve been delerious) pizza for me to piece this together – but I’ve figured it out. Staring up at the ceiling, fitfully rolling from side to side while my belly continued to bubble, I remembered seeing New York underneath the address label. Then I remembered who had been in New York recently. Then I got out of bed, went downstairs and picked the card off the fridge and compared the address label handwriting with handwriting from a letter I have tucked away. Then I saw the Nashville postal stamp — somewhat blended in with the black background. That was when I knew it was my cousin who shall remain nameless – which makes far more sense than Ms. B — as it really isn’t her style of humour. You would think she would be too busy planning her wedding, but hey…she’s industrious. That the card managed to get here at all I attribute to the power of the will of The Cruise — as the zip code was off by five whole digits…
Anyhow — it still warrants a HAR HAR. Now maybe I can fall asleep.
You are a very astute detective cousin Kevin!