Prison letters

So, as I've mentioned in past posts, I'm pretty close with my poppop (grandfather). I always have been. And, when I hit the age of about eight or nine, my dearest poppop decided in all his hardly elderly wisdom that I was no longer a child worthy of kootchy-kootchy belly tickles and colorful propeller hats. No sir, at that point, I was officially declared a young adult, fully mentally capable of maturely handling all of his teachings of profanities and psychological warfare techniques. By that, I mean he taught me almost all of the curse words I know, began taking me to serious operas and symphony concerts when I was about six, and comedically taught me all about my Jewish-Russian heritage. This is the man who taught me to never let anybody step on me, to kiss no asses, to put myself first, and to assert all of these mannerisms with the utmost amount of class.
He also taught me that chocolate is the most important food group and that there is no such thing as "too young to watch The Simpsons." Currently, I'm receiving vast amounts of knowledge pertaining to my ancestry on his side of our family.

YAY JEWISH-RUSSIAN GREAT-GREAT GRANDPARENTS

Anywho.

Recently, my poppop thought it best that I finally read all the letters that he sent my uncle Howie over a 2 year time span, when poor Howzy was sent to prison. My uncle was in prison at the turn of the millennium, which was right around when I was born! So recently, he scanned all the letters, and sent them to me via interwebs.

In total, I believe there are around 76 letters, which I promptly read all in one night. I will be sharing with you a few of my favorite passages from these letters, just so you can get a sense of what my family is truly like. (note; do go ahead and click on the screenshots in order to make them bigger, for your viewing pleasure. I realize they're kinda small as fuck.)

(note once more; I did, in fact, get my poppop's permission to share with you all these wonderful examples of family hilarity. Enjoy yourself.)

This particular passage was from a letter that my poppop sent just a few days after I was born. He hadn't even met me yet. Apparently, my great-great grandfather would not have approved of my new-age name. "Yetta" apparently would have been more adequate.

This legitimately made me laugh so hard I pulled a muscle.

Isn't it interesting to hear about yourself from another person's point of view?

Prostate exams. 

Describing my beloved grandma.

Once again, depicting a typical television-viewing session with le grandma.

Our family religious views. This man confirmed my atheism by the time I stopped shitting in my pants three times a day.

So there ya go; I hope you enjoyed these passages as much as I did. Honestly, reading these makes me really happy because my poppop is like me best friend/partner in crime and knowing I inherited his sense of humor does most certainly make me a happy little chicken. 

I'll be seeyin' ya.