Now I don’t know if he is still reading, but I will take a chance that he is.
My Dear Billy,
Please come back. It’s the dead of winter. (For some of us anyway), and I am in desperate need of cheering up. And for some unknown and completely inexplicable reason, it’s your brand of quirky, off the wall humor that I think will do the trick.
Now I know you have a life. I respect that. But you also have a certain twisted wit that should not be hidden under a bushel so to speak. Let your light shine!
I will even promise not to make snide remarks about your dummies.
And will admit they have a certain fascination of their own, however bizarre and twisted they may seem at first glance.
I would not bother you, if it were not for my undeniable need for a good guffaw. And in particular a Billy Teabags Guffaw, complete with oddball Buddhas and other curiosities rustled up from your personal collection of flotsam and jetsam.
And as proof that this is not a one woman plea, I leave room below for anyone else who misses you to indicate such in their own words.
All those who would like to see Billy Teabags return, say “Aye”.
Thank you and goodnight.