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LETTERS TO THE EDITOR:
Sirs: The U.S. Postal Service is pleased to announce the issuance of a commemorative stamp honoring prostitution. It costs twenty cents, but it’s an additional ten cents if you want to lick it. Postmaster General Washington, D.C
Sirs: I was a thief, a rapist, and a murderer, but I always felt terrible about it. Then, a year ago, I accepted Jesus Christ into my life. Things have been wonderful ever since. Oh, I still steal, rape, and murder, but now I don't feel guilty about it, because I know Jesus forgives. Ed Lucas Fort Wayne, Ind
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Sirs: For sale: '71 Buick 4-dr. ww tires, pwr wndws, brks, htr & radio. Some water damage. Car Owner Chappaquiddick, Mass.
Sirs: I was laid off, so our family was unable to take our regular summer vacation. Usually we go to the mountains or the beach, but this year we decided to have our vacation right at home. We slept late, took the bus over to the municipal pool for a swim, ate at good local restaurants, visited the town park, and in general pretended we had spent all that money on a regular vacation. And you know what? It turned out to be the worst vacation we ever had. Joe Taylor Rochester, N Y
Sirs: You've all seen commercials where four out of five doctors recommend Rolaids, or aspirin, or some other product? Well, I in that fifth doctor; the one who won't recommend a goddamn thing to anyone. I'm a member of the NRPU— the Non-Recommending Professionals Union-and were fighting to put a stop to these recommendations of doubtful products. Of course, not everybody does it; plumbers will hardly recommend anything, including plumbing, but there are other professionals who make the rest of us took slimier than whale diarrhea. Like dentists. They'll do anything for a little weasel money You know, " Ninety-nine out of a hundred dentists recommend Crest. " It's unethical, and we of the NRPU want to get these recalcitrant bugs under the firm control of the union as soon as we can. Because then we'll be talking about real money for recommending products, and no more of this nickel-dime shit. Dr. Thornton Bicker Mayo Clinic
SIRS: I would like to recommend a program designed to end hunger and improve postal service across the land. Instead of letters in envelopes, people should mail their messages stuffed inside fruits such as the apple or the orange. When poor people received junk mail, they could feed their hungry children with it instead of going "Shit mu’fa, no welfare check today" or "Golly, I don't like this mail." People who give parties, nice people but absentminded at times, could leave their guests to check their mailbox for lemons and limes for their cocktails, instead of driving to convenience stores and possibly getting in an accident or worse. And mailmen (mine’s name is Charles, but yours is probably different) could juggle their mail for amusement instead of sitting on wobbly stools in tawdry doughnut shops eating stale doughnuts, or having alcoholic drinks in a losers bar, thinking bad thoughts about their brother Donald the podiatrist with the fancy home and Jaguar and the wife who was a runner-up "Miss Palmetto” and who you still wouldn't kick out of the delivery truck for misaddressing a Jiffy Pac. Thank vou, and please think about it, won't you. Bud Chub Tampa, Fla.
Sirs: Jackie Cooper here. I'm almost sixty years old, I've been acting since I was eight, and I'd like a competent medical explanation as to why, in all those years, my face never changed. I mean, other child actors developed lines and wrinkles as they aged. They got faces with character definition. Me? All I got was taller. Now I’m getting shorter, and I've still got this damn baby face. It's not as if I never tried. I chain-smoke, I drink coffee and booze, I lie in the California sun for days at a time. I even got a dehumidifier running all the time. Still no wrinkles. I'm gonna be a child actor for the rest of my life. Jackie Cooper
Sirs: This is just a friendly reminder from your local Electric Company that your payment this month is five days overdue. If you have already mailed us your check, just throw this notice away and forget about it. If you haven't sent your check, may we politely remind you what the effects of a 10-minute "power failure" would have on the operation of the iron lung in which your mother is unfortunately confined at the Mt. Mercy Hospital in Arizona? Please don't feel that we are "pressuring" you in any way, but won't you send us your check? )We would regret being forced to charge you an additional $1.70 for a long distance service call to our sister plant in Phoenix. Your Friendly Local Electric Co. Anytown, U.S.A.
Dear Henry: We all hope that you and your friends from Illini Country Club enjoyed playing our course this past weekend. I again apologize for not being able to go around with you, but I had some pressing business that needed attention. I was, however, able to observe you on some of the back nine, and if I may, I'd like to suggest a few changes in you and your friends' styles. First, I think you'd find it easier if you actually stood over the ball instead of giving it a running charge. Golf is largely a game of patience and skill, and the more advantages you give yourself, the simpler you'll find it. Next, that business where you pick up your leg like a baseball pitcher just before you swing at the ball is totally unnecessary, as are those God-awful cries you yelled out as you ran at the ball. (What were they? Sounded like "KKIIIEEE ENGLISH FADAH YIIIIIEEEEEAAHH.") It is usually the custom that one person tee-off at a time and not, as you did, all assault your respective tees at once. Some of the other members were given quite a fright when they saw this. As you probably realize now, all those fencing masks, football helmets, cleats, mitts, nets, and rackets weren't necessary, were they? To say nothing of that tractor you used to travel around in. I believe Mr. Ackton of the grounds committee would like some words with you on that matter. Please let us know if you plan to come out again. I shall be only too glad to assist you in any way I can. William Shea Sands Point, N.Y
Sirs: Just thought you'd like to know it sure is a pretty day here today. Well, ha ha, to tell the truth, every day's supposed to be pretty swell around here, isn't it, ha ha? I'm real fine here, and making plenty of new friends all the time. As a matter of fact, a new "recruit" by the name of Peterson (used to be big in upholstery) let fly with a real zinger I thought you boys would like. Seems the fellow in the story gets conked on the noggin in 1953 and doesn't wake up until 1969. He sits up, looks out the window, sees the flag flying at half mast and asks the nurse, "Who died?" The nurse says, "Oh, Eisenhower has just passed away." "Balls o' fire," the fellow shouts. "That means that bastard Nixon is President!" Well, hope you got a chuckle out of that one. Love to everyone, and tell the gang I miss them and hope to see them real soon.
Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower (Ret.) No address
Sirs: The exiled members of the Citizens' Army for the Liberation of Free Poland have found your attitude toward our people and their noble history to be villainous and insulting. This is to warn you that one of our crack guerrilla demolition experts is preparing a bomb that will demolish your editorial offices at preci
Sirs: Hey, what is it with these high-priced fancy-schmantzy "surgeons" anyway? They'll charge ya an arm an' a leg for some so-called "operation" and tell ya about how complicated it was, what with all them "organs" sloshin' an' crowdin' around inside. Well, ya know what I think? I think the whole thing's a big racket! Them lawyer types, for instance. For centuries those lawyer clowns have been makin' the laws so complicated that you gotta spend a week's pay in legal fees just t' get a mortgage or get rid of your old lady. Legally, that is. Well, it's the same with them doctor types. For centuries they been tellin' you that your insides are all tangled up with them screwy livers an' pancreases and all them other doodads, when the truth is that they ain't even there at all! Inside, humans are solid right through, just like baked potatoes! But them meat slicers get together an' show you all these charts of made-up plumbing inside ya just so you'll think they're doing somethin' the average Joe can't. Ha! That's a hot one! F’rinstance, my kid just came in hollerin' he's got a bellyache, but I ain't gonna waste my dough on some shyster for some so-called happendecktommy. Hell, I'll do it myself with power tools and save myself a wad.
Pete Szelcky San Quentin, Calif.
Dear Editors, You think you're so smart? O.K., if you think you' re so smart, why aren't you the head of the Sales Department over here at Standard Faucet like George Tuna? Well? Answer me that. I dare you to print this. George Tuna Condom, Ohio
Sirs: For every day the French Government fails to stop the heroin traffic into this country, I'm walking out into the street and kicking somebody's poodle in the stomach. Maybe if enough people did this, the French would see we mean business. Charles Reich New Haven, Conn.
Sirs: Dolphins smart? Ho-hah, that's a laugh. Last week I saw one arranging pebbles on the ocean bottom, and it turned out to be a fan letter to Rod Stewart. Billy N. Pompano Beach, Fla.
Sirs: Did ya' ever read Paradise Lost? I mean really read it, not just the Cliffs Notes. No? Well, us neither. 11 Billion Past and Present College Students All Over the World
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