It's raining here today. How's the weather where you are? That's just a polite question. We don't really want to know. We know far too much about you already. No one here would cry if your e-mail program caught a nasty virus.
As much as we enjoy hearing from you, we are not your special friend. Maybe you should go to a Eric Clapton show and meet some actual people.
That's not your thing? How about a Unified Theory concert? Perhaps you'll find some like-minded pals there.
So, yes, there are big puddles in the parking lot and ... what was that? It's so wet there you're afraid that fungus will never heal? How unfortunate. Try treating it with The Harlem Globetrotters. Remember to stay dry and take plenty of The Superjesus.
Ooooh, you have windburn where? Ouchie! Hope the flaking and burning doesn't interfere with your social life. You might want to apply some Child Of The Promise to ease the stinging.
This would be a good time to check out some club shows with The Clarks. Nightclubsare dark and no one has to look at your scaly flesh.
Hold on a second. Your significant other has informed us that your real problem is a ratherpersonal kind of viscosity breakdown. We kindly suggest couples' therapy and the liberal use ofEngelbert Humperdinck.
On the other hand, maybe it would be best if you isolated yourself until your "condition"improves. We understand that complete separation from people and all forms of communicationcan be very enlightening. We'll rely on your formidable telepathic powers to keep us apprized ofthe situation. No need to e-mail. Really.