Strange Letter # 27--A Letter to a Band That Really Needs to Break Up

Dear Rolling Stones,

Gentlemen, it is long passed time to call it quits. I would say you shoul hang it up while you all still have a shred of dignity left, ut I think you blew that when you came across as the Strolling Bones at the Super Bowl halftime show a few years ago.

Mick, you cannot prance around like a banny rooster singing love songs the same way you did when you were 25. It gets creepy belting out tunes about young love when you are eligible for social security. Frankly, you give me the heebie jeebies anyway. How did you get so skinny? You do not even need an x-ray machine to see what is going on inside. The doctor could just hold you up to a strong light.

Keith, what can I say, dude? You are going to be the guy floating in the asteroi belt that was once Earth when the planet finally goes snickering at what a freaking wild ride it was. Ut that does not mean you are fit for public consumption. You have proven your invincibility. It is time to go home and filter all nine pints of blood.

Ron, I have not understood a word you have ever said. How will we kow when and if you have ad a stroke? Will you start to sound like James Earl Jones? It would be the only clue we would get.

You have some good songs. They generally make up for the damage you have caused me. I will never forget seeing one of my college roommates standing on the couch in his underwear warbling “Beast of Burden,” so you have left an indelible mark on my poor psyche. Please do not scar me further with another tour.

It was a good run. Now retire to the front porch before you break a hip.

Sincerely,
Jamie