My Wisteria Lane

I shot off a vague tweet yesterday about a letter that was slipped under our apartment door sometime during the day. While we're pretty sure that we weren't its intended recipients, it's sort of creepy to know that some angry person out there in the ether thinks someone they hate lives in our apartment.

I know what you're thinking: Most of the sentiments expressed in this letter don't even make sense! It's like someone chose a bunch of magnetic poetry words & slapped them together into this semblance of sentences - but it's still unsettling, no?

On top of it all, Nathan & I don't even have fathers! Thanks for the reminder.