Shit. This is sending me. I don’t know how these ended up in here. I sent them to Zuckerberg for safe-keeping, so that I would be safe from revenge porn. Did they not take me seriously? These are all saucy images I sent to my dear wife while she was detained in a Bulgarian prison, back in 1981.

Heavily encoded so as to pass the guards, who I also bribed with blue-jeans, coke, and Joy Divison records. Well, I guess with the passing of time, and they’re out now, and uh ok … Clockwise from top left:

Oh these are making me mist up. I nagged and nagged and finally she dressed as a French maid and you see we both thought Jerry Lewis was the finest comedic talent in history (until Adam Sandler blew that out of the water), and she taught the parrot to swear in Dutch, I have no idea what it was saying. Could have been anything, and couple stories are the king of you had to be there, aren’t they? That’s me in an artist’s get-up, saying “look what you’ve done to me”. LOOK! She had a way of missing the obvious and then coming bck and thoroughly sorting it out later.

She is (yep we are still together, 900 years later, don’t ask how) such a noisy eater. I think she does it on purpose. Slurp, slorp, nus nush and lots of moans right in my ear sometime, but nothing pornographic. This was the 80s, shesh. Just swallow, I would you? I’d say, no matter how many languages, nope, slurp nosh, with little giggles. She loved this one, I suggested she use it as a poster to hide an escape tunnel but she said that might damage it and she liked to keep it under her pillow to look at for inspiration.

She was in there a long time. No wonder. Arhh.

Elvis in Germany was because I knew her dyslexia would make her read it “Evils ni mangery” and manger is French for to eat and that’s clearly not Elvis so she’d know that the gingerbread house I’d sent had something in it. Once she got past the shrubbery scene. It took her three days. She thanked me for the file and said she was pretty insulted that I thought her toenails might be so thick, like a troll, she wrote, and didn’t add any kisses as she usually did so I knew she was crazy pissed at me.

I love her so much, even though by god she’s dense.

The next is because she’s a sucker for a man in a skirt, access all areas right, and thinks I’m pretty suave. Connery, not so much, he’s said some dodgy things over the years, even if he was the best Bond. Until that guy in oh what was the one with the lair and the … man with a golden masking tape? hm, thumb? It was Christmas, 19 what did I say? early 80s.

Next, I was a bit depressed, to be honest. She seemed to be enjoying it in there. Three months. So? She said, I’m in this Bulgarian rathole and all you send me is files, you-porn, drugs, and make me laugh all damn day thinking of the shit you come up with, what the fuck. That one she signed with seven lisptick kisses, and when I put my nose to them I swear I could smell the neighbouring mink farm. I knew all about that because she hated that farm. When she escaped, she busted out all the mink, and that was quite the news headline, “1,000 Mink Escape Fur Farm in Giant Bust! Coats is Clear!”

Last, this is my favourite. This is why I’m annoyed at Zuck, too. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m that much into weird star treck episodes about Boston. We had a spaniel called “Richelieu”, look at that moustache. I was such a puppy dog for her, still am, and she knows it. Oh, my wife? Yeah her too. This one she sent me a picture of her pussy in exchange, how she smugggled that out, I hate to think, it came rolled up in the inside of an can of borscht and wasn’t even stained; but she was, and is, one hell of a woman.

Finally she got the message I wanted her back with me, and so she made some kind of flying machine out of pantyhose and junk mail and over the wall she went, via the mink farm, and home to me. She’s still wanted in Bulgaria.

Now, excuse me while I go and call Zuck. If you’re picturing Raymond Quentin Smuckles from Achewood then that’s just fine. I might just get through to him if that’s the case.