It Pains Me

Dear Mary,
     It pains me to inform you that your new space does not meet my present artistic needs.
Although the acoustics are excellent, the plethora of white within the design concept screams Scandinavia. I am of Italian descent and color is our religion. Your decor simply stifles my imagination.
Then there is the aroma. I can't smell anything in the rooms and around you. Some might say this announces superb hygiene. I contend a dearth of personal scent is a metaphor for a timid, stimulus deprived, vapid existence, devoid of adventure. There is a disturbing lack of gravy stains on your blouse.
The blue bathroom fixtures remind me of my childhood bathroom, a time when I was innocent and peeing only took seconds, not minutes. I burst into nostalgic tears in front of your shower curtain.
Your furnishings express Norwegian utilitarian--sleek in that modern way. After two hours of sitting on one of those sophisticated chairs, my proletarian buttocks ached. I would have requested a pillow, but your anemic couches are pillow-less, a capital offense in Italy. I could have ventured upstairs for one, but that would have entailed being exposed to your Icelandic austere bedroom, including sculptured lamps and ghostly foot lighting. That might very well have sent me hurtling out the window in despair if I were able to figure out how to unlatch those post modern monstrosities.
You chose blinds over drapes in what must have been a drunken fugue state. Drapes are proof of a Supreme Being. Blinds are Satan's handiwork.
What almost saved you from my creative expulsion was your choice of wall art. Eclectic, dangerous, provocative, stabbing at convention. I could see my own work hanging over your fireplace, except you don't have a real fireplace, you cheap fraud.
I have, however, decided to let you remain my friend because you gave me a black pullover to wear at my monthly discussions about the feeble state of the arts, which we hold at Natalie's, who at least has a smelly dog, a real fireplace and some damn pillows.
With deepest regards,