Hello there gentlemen,

     Just leting you all know that the Conn is here.  Yeah, I haven't
     played it yet, but I'm sure it's going to suck.  I think we need to
     change the name of the group to Andy and the Conn Holes.  Or, Creamed
     Conn.  Or, Stick this in your Conn Hole.  Or, well, I think you guys
     get the idea.  As long as the title doesn't have anything to do with
     Seann Ives, because then he'll get all the chicks, and I'll be left
     with this big Honn stuck in my Conn Hole.  Anyway, I just wanted you
     all to know that you should never get a job like the one I presently
     have. It's replete with tedious, mindless, impossible, boring tasks.
     It really has no redeeming qualities whatsoever.  Except, for the fact
     that the shipping department carried my big UPS box all the way to the
     second floor of the building and into my dumb cube.  Other than that,
     this place is a waste of building materials and perfectly good
     asphalt.  I hope your respective days were better than mine was.
     Seann, I hope your hand is nubly, nubly, nubly.  Mike, I hope your
     forehead is still shiny.  Paul, I hope....oh for Pete's sake Paul,
     stop picking your nose!!!!  Jeese, now I forgot what I was going to
     say!!!  Oh yes, Paul, I hope you've undergone some therapy for your
     drooling problem.  There, now that I've wished you all well, I must be
     off.  I think I hear the toilet gnome calling from Franklin Mass.  It
     seems someone tipped her off about my new purchase, and she's ready to
     stand under the big bell of the new machine and reap the rewards of my
     bullshit spewing (a.k.a. practice), albeit on a new horn so I won't
     even have my admittedly meager technique at my disposal to create
     fresh improvisational concepts.  OK, 9 more minutes of this, and then
     I'm gone.  I don't think I can take much more of this........

     Fading fast,

     Mr. Andrew N. White III