To Whom It May Concern,
Hello, my name is Mr. John Seymans and the one thing I hate more than stand up comedy is well-curated, region-specific stand up comedy. Seriously. I’d rather foster a homeless, likely disease-ridden kitten (another one of my biggest bugaboos!) than spend one minute in a room filled with laugher elicited from helpless audience members in such a tasteless fashion.
You can only imagine how profoundly upset I was to discover that, as a gift for my 50th birthday (and no, I do not need your congratulations on reaching that milestone because I am a confident and fulfilled adult human being!), my wife had purchased two tickets to your “Brunch Club” event called “A Stand Up Guide To Montreal” on Friday, July 22 at the Wiggle Room as part of that god forsaken Just For Laughs festival. Not only did this purchase lead me to question the entirety of my 30 year relationship with my “loving” wife Debraugh, I can also kiss my dream of traveling to Naples, Florida (the golf capital of the ENTIRE WORLD) to play a round with Rickie Fowler or Mark Calcavecchia on the eve of my 50th goodbye. I have survived 50 years of soul shattering disappointment on this planet, and this is the thanks I get? Debraugh, if you’re reading this, look forward to a little something I like to call DIVORCE PAPERS in the MAIL. Or maybe I’ll get someone to serve them to her at her mother’s funeral service next week.
Now, I consider myself a reasonable individual. It took a little research into this utterly bizarre programming choice before I truly went off the rails. Upon receiving the crisp, white envelope with my name, John Seymans, emblazoned on the back in 1 karat gold, I prayed to our lord and saviour Jesus Christ that the envelope would contain the plane tickets I had stealthily requested on numerous occasions throughout the year leading up to my big day. To make the odds of receiving such a gift even sweeter, I took it upon myself to whisper “John’s 50th! Naples Florida! Do it! Or be doomed!” into Debraugh’s ear at night as she slept. It’s amazing what you can do on half an hour of shut-eye per night (assuming you’ve got a steady flow of non-drowsy sinus pills at your disposal)! The human body is a magical thing! So strong!
But I digress. The moment I peeled that encasement open and saw two tickets to “A STAND UP GUIDE TO MONTREAL” inside, I began breathing deeply. “Keep your cool, John,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t flip your lid!” I promptly excused myself and rushed to my office, where I keep my PC Pentium processor (complete with Windows XP). I furiously typed “STAND UP GUIDE TO MONTREAL JUST FOR LAUGHS WHAT IS IT?” into AltaVista.com. “Who on earth are these jokers? I’ve lived in Montreal for 50 years, my whole life, and they think they can teach me the ways of this world? BULL PUCKY!” I looked for a comments section to make my unique and incredibly important thoughts known (as I am wont to do, as I am an advocate for democracy) but, alas, there was no such forum to be found. That’s what I call cowardice!
I am an individual. I am a 50-year old white male. I have a lot to say and it’s about time someone takes a listen! This being the case, you can expect to see me at your little spectacle on July 22, but be forewarned that I will not be happy. I have not changed my mind on the “STAND UP GUIDE TO MONTREAL” concept, or the “comedians” involved. I am simply attending to give you a piece of my mind, as you have provided me no other outlet to do so.
John Tiberius Seymans
P.S. I will take this final opportunity to speak plainly: I WILL PISS ON YOUR GRAVE, BRUNCH CLUB! PISS. ON. YOUR. GRAVE.