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A Request to JK Rowling
by Bob Iozzia

Dear Mr. Rowling,  

How’s it going? 

I never heard of you or read any of your books, but I hear you’re pretty famous and your books are fairly popular. So I think you’re just the person to ask this favor: Whenever you have some spare time in the next day or so, please take a look at the 900-page fiction novel I just finished (I think). It’s attached to an email I just sent to you—thank goodness for the interweb, right? And no worries about computer viruses; I’ve been guaranteed by the Bezopasnyy Anti-Virus Collective that all the worms (whatever that means) and other problems have been removed from my laptop computer machine and a special program has been permanently installed for future protection. Whew, uh? 

Anyway, my book is called Harvey Parker and the Half-Baked Idea. It’s about a basketball player for the Washington Wizards, an American professional basketball team in an American national basketball association called the NBA (Sorry, but I don’t know what NBA stands for. LOL.), who can’t find a good solution to removing or hiding a forehead birthmark in the shape of Florida, a backwards state in the USA. Since he’s the shortest member of the team that has a very cramped locker room, he is assigned a space in the jock storage area under a staircase. 

Please send it to your publisher after you’ve made any necessary corrections. (Warning: I don’t seem to know my emdash from my elbow or a serial comma from a cereal coma. [Also, I’ve been told that I use too many parentheses (whatever they are)]). Oh, and please improve my ending with a real punchy one that will make hardasses cry, crybabies laugh and evangelicals blurt, “Jesusfuckingchrist, I never saw that coming.” 

Thanks and please let me know if you don’t receive my email and/or this letter.   

Sincerely very truly yours truly, Bob Iozzia   

PS: You will probably want to follow me on anti-social media, but I’m only active on Twister (or whatever that site is with a silly blue bird logo). I’m sort of on Instant Gram, but am not on it too much because I have no interest anymore in hooking up with grandmothers, instant or otherwise. I refuse to join Facebook because I heard its officers and other muckety-mucks are Martians who zap its members with an invisible lightning ray that makes them eat babies (no offense to you if you eat babies). 

PPS: In the interest of full disclosure, I’m an American, but my ancestors had nothing to do with the Revolution, just as your people probably had no part in the War of 1812. If they did, I guess you owe me another favor and an apology.