Dear Danai Raiwech (aka The Great Panty Caper),
Hi. How are you? You probably feel like shit right now, on bail, waiting to be charged for your involvement in nearly a half a million dollar jewelry heist. But stealing jewelry is not your life’s passion. Your life’s passion is stealing women’s underwear. Keep reading »
Oh, Charles Shumanis III, the love we could have had. Earlier this month, Shumanis, 47, was convicted of stealing lobsters (!) and other meat from an Allentown, Pennsylvania-area supermarket, with the intention of selling the crustaceans to support his drug habit. Shumanis apparently repeatedly stole lobsters from the store, and was finally apprehended in March of this year. In all, he stole around $350 in merchandise and was also charged with auto theft. He faces — get this — up to 25 years in prison. That is one expensive lobster dinner. What must ambivalent single lobster think? [MSN]
There’s histrionics, and then there’s histrionics. And perhaps nobody knows that better than the announcer guy for “The People’s Court.” He’s turned witty voiceover-speak into a slightly sardonic, possibly passive aggressive and definitely psychotic artform. Just listen!
Dear Number 49,
Congrats on making it to the Super Heavyweight finals at the Arnold Classic Europe in Madrid this weekend! That’s awesome! I’m sorry that you didn’t win, but still, you were the star of the show. I wish I could say you were getting attention for all your hard work and dedication to the sport of bodybuilding. I cannot. Number 49, people are talking smack about your two-tone tan. It looks like you forgot to slather fake tanner on your face.
Keep reading »
Oh Australia, what were you thinking? A bar in Perth in the Land of the Criminals kicked a guy out for having a mullet haircut. A bouncer at Print Hall’s rooftop bar told mullet-wearer David Hoogland that “his kind” wasn’t welcome at the establishment — and it’s all because of his business in the front, party in the back haircut. Hoogland says he was asked leave because of his hair.
Keep reading »
Dear French Guy Who Buried Himself In A Hole For A Week,
Sometimes life gets really overwhelming, and I want to just, I don’t know, bury myself in a hole with a stack of books and not talk to anyone for a week! Yeah! That’s what I want to do! Do you think that’s crazy? Of course you don’t, because you did exactly that a couple weeks ago, when you descended into a two-foot wide hole dug under a Marseilles bookstore, equipped only with water, freeze-dried food, a headlamp, and some books, and didn’t emerge for seven days. That’s pretty much my life dream. I feel like you and I would have a lot in common. Maybe next time we can share your hole?
That sounds a bit dirtier than I intended, but hey, whatever floats your boat, mon amour.
Dear Vegetable Musician,
Hello. Nice to meet you. I don’t know your name, but I came across this video of you playing your celery nose flute and developed an instantaneous crush. Some people think celery is a boring vegetable. You’ve proved them wrong! Celery has so much untapped potential (it goes great with peanut butter or hummus!) and the fact that you understand that, speaks to your character and creativity. Not to mention your musical talent. Vegetable Musician, I stalked you on YouTube and discovered that you also play the cucumber trumpet, the carrot pan-flute, the broccoli ocarina, the red pepper panpipe, the sweet potato slide whistle and many, many more. OMG. Seriously! You are a one-man vegetable band! A musical fruituoso! Now all you need is a singer. Keep reading »
Dear Tattooed Poet,
You got the following poem tattooed on your shoulder: “Roses are red/ My name is Dave/ This poem makes no sense/ Microwave.” Obviously you have a way with words and a keen eye for art. I wrote you a little response poem that I hope you’ll enjoy:
Violets are blue
My name is Winona
I like your poem tattoo
It gave me a bonah.
Care to escort me to the tattoo parlor and make this official?
Dear Mark Welch,
I would like to start by saying that even if no one else does, I believe you. I’ve had that happen to me before — where I woke up and the same stuff that I dreamed happened to me in real life. I was in college, around you age, when it happened. It’s was really freaky. I thought I was losing my mind. Granted, I wasn’t smoking synthetic pot before bed (I was smoking real pot) nor did I call 911 to report the incident, but I can understand why you did. I don’t think you were trying to be cute or funny. You were scared. Keep reading »
Dear Sergey Pakhomov aka The Pasta Artist,
Six years ago you were working on an ad campaign for a Russian macaroni company and were struck by divine inspiration: what if you built models of various objects using macaroni? So you did, and the ad campaign fizzled, but your life was forever changed. Now you build all kinds of things using all different kinds of pasta: spaghetti motorcycles with rotelle wheels, bi-planes with lasagna wings, and a whole pasta town complete with a linguini windmill and penne playground.
So why am I contacting you today? Well, I’m something of an amateur pasta artist myself. A beautiful pan of cheesy rigatoni speaks to my heart and soul in a much more profound way than the Sistine Chapel ever could. I don’t care for oil paintings unless the oil is olive and the canvas is cannelloni. Your work truly moves me. What do you say we collaborate sometime?