P.S. If you see a phone booth, don’t get any ideas. Again.
Cousin Pjkl (yes, I’m still not sure how to pronounce that last part — is it silent? Like a wizard’s cough?), you remain the family’s greatest mystery and most reliable source of tinfoil hat advice.
You two be excellent to each other.
And party on, Pjkl.
Anyway, family reunion is next month. Barb is bringing her famous potato salad that glows in the dark. Uncle Steve is threatening to recite his entire 80s mixtape playlist as slam poetry. Dear Cousin Bill And Ted Pjkl
Bill, I heard you’ve been trying to teach your lawnmower to play air guitar. Ted, please tell me you didn’t actually trade the station wagon for a pile of vintage beanie babies.
Your loving cousin, [Your Name Here]
Here’s a short, playful piece assembled from your prompt, “Dear Cousin Bill And Ted Pjkl”:
I hope this letter finds you both still卓有成效 (zhúo yǒu chéng xiào — remarkably productive) and not completely lost in the space-time continuum. Cousin Pjkl (yes, I’m still not sure how