Mr. Dolan

This is my 68-year-old landlord.
After four years of no face-to-face communication, I'm finally to meet him on Sunday.
And so, for you, a sneak peak into his head which should then normalize those thoughts you are having that his sending a beach-bod shot is creepily coo-coo.
I save all of his email banter because to me it is true literary gold, minus all the grammatical errors.
To clear a few things up, I swear he rented to me because I'm Irish and he is beyond fascinated with the fact that Keith is Cajun (er, Cagen).
I'll let the man speak for himself:

"I went to the mountains of W.V. looking for John Denver country road mountain Mama take me home. the only music I did hear was environmental music like Turn Off Your Furnace And Turn On Your Man and Save Your Horse And Ride A Cowboy.
So I was as high as one can get in this part of the world and I did think I saw John Denver but when I got home I thought it must have been a cloud formation with glasses like Lucy in the sky with diamonds."

"I just got back from my travels to Western Maryland Hagerstown. I do not hallucinate as much out there as I do in W.V. although like you in New Orleans I could not find any fresh fruit! I do hear you can find all the fresh fruit you might want at the Minneapolis Airport."

"At my age it is time to hang up my hammer and look for something less strenuous and that is why I was thinking about writing and after I showed the outline for the book to my wife (a two time push cart nominee) she recommended I keep my day job so now I am thinking about starting up a band with my hammering experience I could be a drummer and Keith could be a flute player and you could play the fiddle I think we could get something going!"

"Not to boast but I can Tap Dance and I can Yodel but not at the same time!!!!!!!!!!! What do you think?"

"Before your pictures when I thought of apartment#8 the prior tenant always came to mind and she was like a female Rodney Dangerfield and that was the good part.
I am so happy you put a name on our cagen friend and the photo with you in front and Keith in the background would make a grate cover for your Romance Novel and we can call it Tracking Down My Man On Boback Mountain or something like that... you take him to the lower east side and that is when you find out that he has a thing for Rodney Dangerfield and guess what he runs into my old tenant that looks like Rodney Dangerfield and falls in love and they plan to take back the appartment from you! What do you think? It might go over big in the Red States if not I think it might sell in Korea!"

"Just waking up from my winter slumber by taking the Polar Bear Plunge last week and now thinking of St Pats Day in N.Y. Winter finds me in a stupor a state of flux, a state of indecision should I stay or should I go. the only way out for me is a day at the parade.
A day at the parade might be good for Keith we might be able to make an Irish man out of him? We might have to keep him away from the Irish Hot sauce he might turn out to be a brawler you know how some of the would-be Irishmen react to the old sauce. If he really got drunk we could always just push him into the parade it is like a conveyor belt for drunks they just line up and follow each other thinking they are going some place... If he makes it to the Bronx we might be in trouble. the Bronx is to an Irishman as the House Of The Rising Sun is to a Cagen no telling what might happen.
So as you know my name is Cornelius and in the old days they called me Con and some called me Connie and some called me a Lepreconnie because they thought I was flaky and I was and it helped me make connections to the Fairies and that is how I picked up the luck of the Irish and with Keith out of the way at the parade I might be able to hook you up with a real Leprechaun it might be your lucky day! Most Important thanks for fixing the toilet how Lucky is that!!!!!!!!!"

I mean, seriously, who comes up with this shit?
I'm never, ever moving.