Dear Mr. Postman...or post-lady..or post-person (whatever y'all are called these days),
It's me, Mailbox #47. Nobody's been around for about a week- and I'm probably as frustrated as you are about it. You've been filling me up with stuff that I know my owner doesn't want- 'cause I see the owners of other mailboxes have thrown the same stuff in the big trash can over there against the fence.
"Dear Mailbox #47" this, "Attention Mailbox #47" that- all of those grocery store flyers sure are cool- but then again, they're over there in the trash can so they must not be all that.
Great that we got some of those thick Val-Pak envelopes this week- like the 3 we got last week weren't enough. But it is tough to pass up those "Mr. Mailbox #47, we can clean all of the carpet in your house for $17!" offers- you never know when those will come around again. Wait! I do- next week.
Well, it looks like my owner's been by to clean me out. That's cool. But he better not have taken that envelope on top that said "Dear Mr. Mailbox #47, you may have won $1 million!"- I'm gonna need that bad boy!
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