After returning from California the last time, I noticed that Mr. Woolsey is an assistant pastor to Jimmy Swaggart in Louisiana. Hmmm.... I wonder if he is somehow related to or descended from the Mr. Woolsey who was a witness for the prosecution in 1950 in San Francisco. Hmmm.... This is why I do not want to go to Louisiana, only to find myself accidentally part of another very bad joke that didn't belong to me in the first place. This is no place for humor. It is a very serious matter. If Mr. Woolsey has some bone to pick, he may direct his comments to the proper authorities, legal or otherwise, which wouldn't be me. But for me to go there, to Louisiana, only to find that the plan all along was to capture me on the high seas, well, it just wouldn't be worth the effort of trying to do that. Not that I could not produce a proper note, but ultimately I could never thrive or succeed in such a clause-trophobic environment.
You recommended that I commit suicide but I have as yet disregarded your bad advice. I don't find such humor amusing. I think that it is a very serious matter that is over your head.
