CLICK HERE to listen to me read the message below as you read!

Dear Everybody,

I’m listening to it. As I’m writing about it. My friend and I made it. We celebrated because of it.
Go to http://www.myspace.com/songsuns and  http://www.facebook.com/pages/SongSuns/13347733373 to see it.

You can buy it.

What’s the cost of it?

You choose it.

Pay as much as you see fi it.

A dollar can buy it. Five dollars can buy it. Ten dollars can buy it.

A million dollars can purchase it. But that would be a bit exorbitanit.

I’m really really excited about it. Chris is really really excited about it.

We’re both stoked on it.

Hopefully you too will be all about it. Once you hear it. Go GET IT! I’ll personally send it.

Wait, what is it? Why are I going on so about it? Why won’t I tell you more about it?

Is it some type of secr it?

No that’s not it. Not at all it. You have to hear it.

Go to http://www.myspace.com/songsuns and hear some of it.

Buy the whole thing if you like it.
If you’re not sure, just pay a buck for it. A buck for all of it. All twelve glorious songs of it. It’s totally worth it.

You want the new full-length Shapiro album……..this will occupy you while you wait for it.

So that’s it. Please check it. Out it. Out it?

When I was going through puberty I had OW t it. I didn’t like it.

Love,
Me   it.

Click HERE to listen to me read the letter below as you read

Dear Everybody,

Last night I got a call from someone who I thought was my friend. I have some wonderful memories with this young lady and when her name lit up the screen of my cell piece, I got so excited I lost my pizza. Yes. My pizza escaped from my plate and nuzzled itself comfortably near the heating grate behind my bed. I didn’t really care though, I was about to catch up with a good friend of mine.

WHAT A WASTE OF PIZZA.

Allow me to explain:

The last time I talked to this girl, she acted above and beyond the maturity level usually associated with someone her age.

She Was

2 Smart
3 Beautiful
1 Funny
1 Large Appetite
567 Weeds
A dash of Childhood
1 1/2 Excitements

The above recipe really doesn’t do “she” justice. There were more weeds. I think I’m being a little too lenient with the weeds. There were definitely a whole bunch of weeds. Weeds stickin’ out your ears.

That aside, she was amazing. A beautiful, intelligent, funny, refreshing young woman whom I loved dearly.

Imagine my shock and surprise when I picked up the phone last night and found that she was not only entertained by humor fitting of a fifth grader, but the actual pitch of her voice had altered to resemble that of a prepubescent fourteen-year-old boy.

How people change…

Not only was I surprised at the way she was speaking, but what she was saying…
You ever watch one of those horrible way-down-the-B-line action movies that’s rated R for violence and strong language but they really didn’t need the strong language the director just stuck it in wherever there was space in the script so his movie would be rated R for something besides violence?
Yeah. It was like

“And SWEAR, you get me?”

Who ‘and SWEARS?’ Who does that? All I wanted was to catch up, see what’s up, and all I got was an earful of horrid….and SWEARS.

How people change…

She didn’t have to tell me never to contact her again, I just wanted to know how she was doing. I guess she’s doing fine, besides the fact she can’t swear very well. I’d always thought she was a talented swearer. But no, puberty has turned her into an ‘and SWEARer.’

How people change…

Also, before she hung up on me, she told me to suck her Dick Tracy.
Now, for the longest time I couldn’t fathom why she would tell me this, then I came to the conclusion:
She must be ingesting hormones and now she has a wee wee.

How people change…

Everything I’ve said aside, I still love and care for this young man lady very much. I’ll always be here for her/him, and although it puts a hurtin’ in my loins that she sounds like a burly highschoolsman and has a pork sword to match,
howpeoplechange
I will never, ever forget the wonderful friendship we had, and how much he/she meant and still means to me.

Have a wonderful life.

Love,
Nathan

Click HERE to listen to me read the letter below as you read

Dear Everybody,

I am a pooped. It is one-thirty in the morning. But I had to let you know…

Nathan Granofsky has joined the ranks of YouTubers around the globe! That’s me. I’m Nathan Granofsky.

If you aren’t still worried, regardless that I referred to myself in the third-person above, read on:

YouTube is addicting people to mediocre comedy and may just be the final destruction of what little good is left of Televised Media, and I’m here to help out! Hence, my self-loathing.
However, “life” may very-well be a joke. You might die and find God sitting on a swively chair in front of his gold, ruby encrusted computer, laughing at how lame video blogging is.

” I had to kill you,” He/She/It says inbetween outbursts,” or I myself might have (at this point you’re probably assuming I’m going to say “died of laughter,” but I’m not. God doesn’t end this sentence with “died of laughter.” He’s laughing too hard. He’s laughing too much to breathe. Much less say “died of laughter.” God continues to laugh. And he dies. Because he was laughing so hard. Nice. You killed God.
You died, arrived at the Swively Chair of Eternal Life, killed God, and you have no idea where the exit is to God’s Computer Lab/Billard Room. You are stuck. Because the room’s covered in mirrors. The oddly shaped ones. That make you look fa…good Lord! Am I still typing?!)…”

I have a written blog.

http://nathangranofsky.wordpress.com/

Does God kill those of the blog WRITING type?
Well, it’s not so much a blog as a place for people to go to see my collection of works. I don’t think you can consider thaaaaaaaa…..my left HAND JUST FELL OFF! GOOD LORD MY RIGHT HAND IS LOOSE! GOOD THING I PRESSED CAPSLOCK SO THAT I MIGHT CONTINUE TO INTRIGUE YOU WITH A HEIGHTENED SENSE OF DRAMA AS I EXCLAIM ABOUT MY RECENTLY DEVELOPED, GOD GIVEN LEPROSY! THERE IT GOEJHLJAHJLASNFKLKJA;LWUIL4ILLAK;LK”’AH’B
KJAAFDDLJMI4M79;MA;ODSFAASF/.,L;SADFOSDA;OJI
SYAAETYI4754O4TL78GR;JUGFHMG;’.,.;[.L[].LJHLK

So may your brains remain in tact, and might they resist to ooze out from your ears as you watch endless amounts of television on your computer screen at YouTube.com.

I do not consider myself a cure to this infectious obsession. Nay.

I hope to become its contagiosity.
A true YouTube contagion.
I have no choice.

Love,
Nathan

Click HERE to listen to me read the letter below as you read

Dear Everybody,

Where were you? I was here, contained in this world-wide-web thingymadoodle, trying my best to understand why no one was allowing their beautiful face to hover in the mystic glow of the personal computer monitor. I spent every ounce of energy I had attempting to reach you through the blackness of your cold CRT or LCD screen. Sadly, that was a really stupid idea because I wasn’t even escaping the firewalls that surrounded the internet. This is how it goes: Internet, firewall, desktop, monitor. I skipped the first three in my desperation. You just can’t do that. Don’t try it. It doesn’t work.
As a matter of fact, I couldn’t see the internet at all. I wondered why, and recieved the answer: we’d been hacked. We were down for the count. Out of the game. In for the long-haul. Hauling concrete blocks. Hauling concrete blocks to the river. Hauling concrete blocks to the river in my pick-up. Hauling concrete blocks to the river in okay it’s not my pick-up I found it. Hauling concrete blocks to the river in okay it’s not my pick-up I car jacked it from a farmer. Hauling concrete blocks to the river in okay it’s not my pick-up I car jacked it from a farmer who also happens to be my grandfather I am so so sorry I will return it as soon as I can. Hauling concrete blocks to the river in my grandfather’s stolen truck to tie those blocks around the feet of our website and toss it into the water to sink down and never be found again. Once I realized this I stopped trying to contact you all, sat back, and waited. I couldn’t fix the site. I couldn’t keep it from drowning. There were too many concrete blocks.

However….

YOU’RE BACK!!! And THAT’S all that matters.

I am going to tell you about some experiences I had in Nashville. Through song. Yes, through song I will explain my experience on….Trinity Lane. Trinity Lane. East Trinity Lane…..

You are now, or could be if you clickied da button above this letter, listening to a song about Trinity Lane. Once it is over, I will say:

Love,

Nathan

Dear Everybody,

I don’t feel like typing. So I wrote you a song instead. Here we go:

PLAY THE SONG!!

I’ve been getting up,
In the mornings,
Sometimes in the afternoon,
If I feel like sleeping in,
But I always feel like sleeping in.

I don’t like waking up,
Like my unnatural state is awake,
And sleeping is where I should be,
I open my eyes,
Don’t see a point,
To the day,
I wouldn’t
Roll out of bed,
But Lord, oh Lord, Lordy Lord,

I really gotta poop.
Really have-to poop in the morning.
I wake up and I gotta poop.
And pee too.
I really have to pee.
And brush my teeth.
But not with my pee.
I brush my teeth with toothpaste and water from the tap.

I’ve been sleeping,
In the evenings,
Sometimes at midnight,
If I feel like heading in,
But I always feel like heading in.

I don’t like going to bed,
Even though sleep is where I wish to be,
My mind won’t let me want to rest.
I closes my eyes,
Don’t see a point,
To the night,
I would, yes,
Lie down in bed,
But Lord, oh Lord, Lordy Lord Jesus,

I really gotta poop,
Really have to poop in the evening,
I lay down and I gotta poop.
And pee too.
I really have to pee.
And brush my teeth.
But not with my pee.
I brush my teeth with toothpaste and water from the tap.

Alright, you’ve been had,
This song is phony,
Mostly.
I don’t have to poop that bad,
Not in the morning,
Darling.
But for the sake of the song,
So I can get from bridge to chorus
Let me just say:
Lordy Lordy Lord of Lords:

I really gotta poop
Really have to poop in the morning and evening,
I lay down and I gotta poop….
This is stupid.
I’m not going to finish this song.
I shouldn’t have started it in the first place.
I shouldn’t ever write anymore.
I’m a depressing person.
CORN CHUNKS!!!

Love,

Nathan