An open, private letter to some of my friends

Jim: try not to suck.
Jeff: (black ver.) tie a knot in it. (kidding, i miss you dog.)
Jeff: (new brighter white ver.) Think of me when you write your first hip-hop mandolin song entitled "the stomp of western europe meets the tough part of the turkey leg".
Andy: my broken half of a heart is fading. and with it, my memories of you. Go to the bookstore for me, and for goodness sake just look at lakeshore for me if you go by there.
Sean: the first part of my letter to Andy will be the title of a new song. think about it. now sing it passionately. there it is.
Kate: I'm going to go camping in Iowa later this month. How could I not think of you, running into a golf store, seemingly stoned out your mind, yelling IM FROM IOWA!?!?!
Em: please go to lakeshore and tell the Decemberists new Ep "The Tain" that I will be back sometime later this month to purchase it with zeal. Please?
Paul: see my days are cold without you... and im hurting by and by, and i just cant seem to find my way back to you again. (the september equation cd is pretty good. its kind of like quirky, glitchy, skipping electronic micro-music. Nothing like Sufjan Stevens "enjoy your rabbit" junk which has been bumping here for a while... but still.)

Dear paul/emily/kate/andy: could ya'll post a comment and give me your addresses so I could send you guys some letters? that'd be swell. Look forward to hearing from all of youse. [not neccisarily limited to the friends mentioned above]