Email from belle

I just received this email from belle.

Boz! My house blew up again! the ASSOCIATION, when not composing lovely music ballads to soothe the ears of grocery shoppers across America, moved me to some furnished corporate faux home that smells funny (by funny I mean clean) and makes Charlie and Emilio cry nonstop. So yeah. And I'm moving in May anyway (although I have no actual place to move to yet, and you should seriously neverrrr rely on a real estate agent who calls himself "King"), so there is chaos everywhere.
That, my dear Boz, is why I have no internets and can't stop you from going on some cyber killing spree that you are bound to go on now that you are unmedicated and unable to stop eating ham. I do have TV and totally thought while I was watching Son of Sam this weekend that you could be Son of Sam if you put a talking ham in place of the talking dog that told him to Killlllllllllllllllllll.

Charlie and Emilio are belle's imaginary boy friends cats ... WHICH I NAMED!!!
And the ham thing is a total figment of her imagination.