Have Speculum. Will Travel to Remote Villages.

Top of the morning gents,

I must confide in you boys, I’ve had excessive
philosophical phone debates with Mr. Craig, Westlake,
and Octuck; none I’ve confessed to my therapist.

Shit, just check my phone bills and you’ll see far too
many charges to Columbo’s desk; every time I got jammed
up with Statewide.

This isn’t good.

A consistent theme amongst you killers is the joy of
honesty and mind shattering accounts of your efforts,
fights, and battles.

You assholes have mastered the art of using the truth
like a fucking fly swatter. Actually a science; due
the callousness and emotional context devoid in your
verbal and non-verbal communications.

I’m ranting experimental language describing gallows
humor, or ER humor, industry specific jargon and
interoffice squacks and cacklings of the most morbid
nature.

Yeah, I’m a tough guy, but after hanging up the phone
with you chaps, I don’t feel my best. Ya see,
infiltrating and undermining rural booze, weed, and
powder smuggling operations is easier than a game of
chess with an Alaskan, but CPS work gives me a shit
fit of quease.

Oops, I’m now an Alaskan. Ok, playing chess with a
retard, or a cop. But the jobs you do make me sick.
I ain’t that tough.

David’s advice, Dean’s lectures, and Pat’s jokes paint
a mug shot portrait of bastards; monstrous. How do
you guys keep doing that kind of work? Something is
seriously fucking wrong with a lad that endeavors to
stem the landslide of rural Alaskan child abuse and
neglect casework.

Are you guys insane? I thought we all swore we'd find
better work. Like Squish describes you crusty old
gunslingers, "Two words Karl, Lo Ser." (Loser)

It is customary to name ships after ladies and to
curse a fussy engine as you would your wife. I also
understand customary dining and drinking, dancing and
dating, and how we all cheer when the hero gets the
babe.

As a little boy, I gave a secret hooah! observing
James Bond snacking on super model hooters and
cooters, with each and every meal. Somehow, we
cloaked predatory sexual behavior in highly civilized
wrapping.

I suppose it’s Ok to be sexually devious and
carnivorous, providing you’re polite, you mind your
manners and wear yer Sunday best. Still with me? I
can allow my imagination and desire to conceptualize
movie stars and historical figures mowing down pussy
like trees full of peaches, as long as the low hanging
fruit has fully ripened.

See where I’m going?

A PA from Galena, a former drinking colleague of mine
named Lorraine Grube once told me a jaw dropping
drinking story.

In her years nursing in the Interior, she has yet to
even touch her small speculum. “Even the youngest
Athabascan girls I’ve examined have extraordinarily
large vaginas.”

I smugly asked Lorraine if these kids were born this
way. We busted a gut, downed our drinks, and then I
proceeded to pour repeated rounds in my best Finnish
manners. Just like Columbo’s gospel, “there’s always
more to the story.”

This method of interrogation is illegal, and so is my
retelling her confidential, yet gushing testimony to
you fuckers. Fate a compli; gay ass French meaning
already happenin’ dumb ass.

Mrs. Grube explained that she was so surprised to
learn about sexual activity at such young ages, the
staggering infection rates, and of course how big
their pussies were.

I challenged her as to an explanation for these extra
mondo penis holsters.

"Ya think post-natal causality is likely
ethno-specific and culturally facilitated at a sublime
aboriginal level?"

"Are these oversized catcher’s mits so swollen from
boys their own age, or were they mere meat puppets for
older monsters."

She said the offenders contained the entire age
spectrum. She also scolded me for my bad language.

You guys, this shit is starting to sound cultural.

Is there a secret native society, or Indian rite of
passage blessing this behavior?

It is up here. Most of my best friends dip into early
vintage pre-adolescent tissue. If I rock the boat
real hard, will I unravel our violent social fabric?

Fuck me running, this is a weird zone. Makes sense
why the Vikings referred to the Inuit as “Scralings.”

Despicable little brown devils is the description I
remember from Anthro 101. But back then, we were
taught all native peoples were wonderful and that all
Europeans were awful. Myth of the noble savages; ever
sniff 6-year old biscuit smelling like the typical
Yukon-Koyokuk Testicular Drainage Basin?

You boys in blue have my admiration, especially that
violent cop from Kiana.

You fuckers try moving to Galena and shield the
innocent from posterior trauma. We’ll be reading
about Dean in the future, mass killing or some shit.

After you get back from lunch, take a moment to thank
God you ain’t walking in Westlake or Octuck brand
moccasins.

When either Dean6Killer or Octuck go postal, I already
know the make and model of the firearms they’ll use.

I’m praying they don’t use any of the guns I sold
them. I’ll never beat a mass murder rap.

Fait a compli dudes.

Karl.