The final deadline for RSVPs is just two weeks away and Trey and Dre are sweating bullets. While I’m on my way to Hawaii to receive my dad’s written confirmation, since he doesn’t know how to text or email, the last few responses are starting to roll in.
Keith had dreams of grandeur of putting together a Scorsesean film for his acceptance, but life got in the way, as life is wont to do. However, he was at least able to pull together our updated logos, so all was not lost.
Mat, a man after my own heart, dusted off the ol’ resume, along with a cover letter, are those still a thing? I must say, he’s a pretty impressive candidate! However, I’m going to need someone to corroborate that story about the driver throw on NH #6. We can’t have a George O’Leary situation. Also, how about that signature? Looks kind of like Trump’s. Does everyone in DC sign their name like this? Shane’s shit must look like a Richter scale print out. Mat also left off “Best Hair”, seems like a pretty big oversight on his part.
That just leaves Marty as the lone asshole not to respond. I’m really beginning to enjoy this tradition of waiting until the very last second, Martin J. It’s great. I love it. Assuming he’s in and we go to the draw, I’ll try to set that up pretty quickly so we can hurry up and figure out the team. We need to maximize the amount of time for team uniforms to clear customs from Alibaba Express or for team tattoos to heal. Stay tuned.