An Intercepted Letter

I think I have seen about a dozen psychiatrists since I moved here. Hollywood is a mean place. You’ve got insane paparazzi chasing stars through red lights, nearly hitting pedestrians, and making my life a hell of a lot harder. My medications don’t help my panic attacks nearly enough. It makes me want to move back to Arkansas, where I can go deer hunting instead of feeling awkward all day. I moved here because I was feeling industrious, and the tourists looked so appetizing I couldn’t resist. Chasing them down nearly once a month is so addictive I just can’t return to you guys. Good luck fending off those mad gun wielding priests.

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