Zemblan Grammar

Hey Marlboro.  Thanks for remembering my birthday.  You really go above and beyond the call of duty.  Come to think of it, how do you know it’s my birthday? I don’t seem to remember telling you that.  Anyway, thanks for the really ugly deck of playing cards you sent, complete with instructions  for the now (inexplicably) trendy Texas Holdem.  Thanks for the cookbook geared towards the stereotypical guy-who-can’t-cook.  The recipe for “saloon burgers” looks phenomenal.  Unfortunately (for you), I am a girl.  I know how to cook and I am interested in consuming things other than giant slabs of meat.   I am not especially thrilled by the recent fascination with televised Texas Holdem poker competitions, either.   Even if that weren’t all true, none of this swag is going to get me to start smoking again.   Actually, the only thing that would is my intense love of smoking. Mmmmm…smoky. Even if it did, I’d be buying Winstons.  Like always.  So thanks, Marlboro, for sending me those gifts even though I never ever bought your cigarettes, but no thanks.