First of all, honey, I’m alive.

So waive off all the missing persons reports. Tell the investigative team, which you spent thousands of dollars to hire, that Tom is back and looking better than ever! Actually, tell them he’s looking like “he avenged the bird that pooped on him 18 days ago.” That would be more accurate.

My god, I am so frickin’ happy to see you! Going 18 days and 18 nights without seeing your beautiful face was absolute torture. I missed you so much.

But, also, babe, I got to tell you something: I’m a different person now. A better person. You know how last month you said if there was one thing you could change about me, it would be that I stick up for myself more? Well, Trace, that’s why I’ve been chasing a bird for the past 430 hours.

I did it for you!

It was actually sort of beautiful that the moment your critique finally started to sink in, a pigeon took a triple-turd on me. You know when a bird drops a turd on one of your shoulders, then wheels around and drops a second turd on your other shoulder, then wheels around again and drops a third turd on the top of your head?

No? Well, it happens to me, Trace.

But this time I didn’t let the bird get away with it. I tracked him down over the course of three weeks and really shamed him for it. Just like you would have wanted!

Tom from last month would have let bygones be bygones. But not Tom from this month. Tom from this month poops on the birds that pooped on him.

Oh yeah, I pooped on the bird by the way. Sort of sexy, eh? Not letting a bird get away with disrespecting me by capturing it and giving it a taste of its own medicine?

I feel so alive, Trace. I must seem like a new man to you. A man that doesn’t let people or birds push him around. I’m not the man you married anymore, Trace. I’m better than that man. I’m a man who took more than half a month running down a bird with nothing but the shirt on his back and a bird costume. Oh, I forgot to mention that I had to purchase a bird costume for $800.

It was absolutely necessary, Trace. Tracking down a bird is an inside job, hon. They can’t know you’re human. And, by most people’s standards, I have more human-like characteristics than bird-like characteristics. So, the bird costume easily allowed me to infiltrate the bird community. I was deep inside the bird dome, babe.

I quickly went from the “new guy” to the “suspiciously large bird” to “the bird that’s getting intimate with Barbara (that’s the name of the bird’s mother that pooped on me) to “the bird that pooped on Kevin (that’s the name of the bird that pooped on me).” Don’t be mad at me, sweetheart. The relationship with Barbara was necessary for me to protect my cover. It certainly wasn’t romantic. It definitely wasn’t true love.

Anyways, that’s how my past 18 days were. What have you been up to? Do some fun things while I was away?

Actually, wait, I’m going to put the bird costume back on. Don’t worry, if my personal growth turned you on, these suckers are perfect for love-making.

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