Hello friends,

I have decided to take the rest of the week off since my stay at Etobicoke General Hospital as a result of my intestinal blockage.

Staying at home allows me to work tirelessly on my mayoral election campaign without distraction or any outside communication. Most of my election plans and strategies are composed within several hundred notebooks that I categorically file away in a temperature controlled storage room in the basement of my Etobicoke mansion.

I write my speeches in my own way; using my specific methods and procedures to better encourage my own inspiration and creativity. I like to write on loose leaf paper that is gently placed over top of my groin region and press my pen hardly on the sheet of paper when I write — I like my writing to appear clear and bold against the white paper background. I try to carry this communication tactic into my speeches and rage debates.

I have noticed that there has been some recent controversy with respect to my latest mayoral endorsement from Pastor Wendell Brereton. I think people need to get a better understanding of where Wendell Brereton and I come from, as we do have a history together and have been friends for quite some time.

Wendell and I go back many years and I think he is a solid individual with a rock hard body. He has been working out for as long as I can remember and I can distinctly recall meeting him at his house after a strenuous jog (him , not me!) and sitting in his living room while he changes in his bedroom directly across from the living room with the door open.

His wet sweatpants peeled off of his glistening black skin as he removed all his sweat-soaked garments. I can remember squirming in my chair because the pants I was wearing didn’t have enough room for my slowly generating chubby.

He would throw his dirty clothes into a hamper and put on a pair of boxer shorts with an open hole in the crotch area and rejoin me in his living room. He explained that he needed to “air out” his skin by not getting dressed again after a long jog, which I completely understood. He also claimed that wearing boxer shorts that had a hole in the crotch area was also necessary because his genital regions needed fresh exchanges of air as well. It was not uncommon during our talks in his dark living room for his penis to flop out accidentally of his boxer shorts mid conversation. We both would have a laugh and continue whatever it was we would be talking about at the time.

I can recount many Saturday afternoons spent in his living room, joking, debating, playing games (see: choke chubby, no bullshit) and hugging; we would explore our minds together through debate as well as through our own skin. I have fond memories of this time with Pastor Wendell Brereton.

Please consider and think before judging his position on traditional marriage as well as my insight into the man behind Pastor Wendell; A man with a true sense of adventure.

Take care.