Sunday, June 18, 2006

A Series of Open Letters

CD's in Play: Mudhoney, Piece of Cake and My Brother the Cow.

Open Love/Lust Letter to a Stranger

Dear sort-of nerdy, large bossomed woman with glasses in the tight, tight pink sweater, old leather jacket with the faux-fur collar, bell-bottoms and blue and white sneakers,

I saw you at the bus stop today and haven't stopped thinking about you all day. Kind of creepy, maybe, but it should also be flattering. Shouldn't it? Anyhow I just wanted to tell you to ditch that creep you were with. I don't know who he is but I am sure you could do better. Run away with me and let's make strange, mutant babies together. We will have nothing to regret unless we stop to think about it.

Sincerly,
Magnus Skallagrimsson

Open Hate Letter to a Smoker

Dear Dirtbag,

I really wanted to kick the crap out of today, you pathetic piece of refuse. It was dumping rain and the bus shelter was abnormally narrow. We all packed in to stay dry and you just had to satisfy the urge. Yes you lit up in a bus stop of crowded people and indiscriminately blew your smoke everywhere. You don't know how close my self-control came to buckling under completely. You don't know how close you came to having that cigarrette butted out in your face. You don't know how much I wanted to grab you and through out into the pouring rain where you forced the rest of us who were too damned polite to say anything. I remember your face asshole and you will not get off so lightly next time.

Sincerely,
Magnus Skallagrimsson

Open Letter of Disgust to South Burnaby Drug Addicts

Dear Homeless Junkie,

It must be difficult being bounced around from place to place, I do understand this. It can't be a great existance to have the cops and security watching and hassling you at every turn, rousting you from your sleeping places, keeping you from finding sustanence in the trash cans and dumpsters. But really, isn't all this your choice? I could be wrong, but I am willing wager that no one forced a needle into your arm. I would be right in assuming that you made the decision to hardcore into junk? If that is the case, then it's your fault you are in this mess. With all due respect may I suggest you give yourself a kick in the ass and move on.
I am not unsympathetic. I'm not one of these right-wing, social darwinist dicks that fill the ranks of our unbeloved the provincial Liberal or new federal Conservative parties. I believe and support programmes aimed at helping people like you get off the street, get off drugs and get back on top. I don't mind my tax dollars going into these programmes - a civilized society shows and acts on its concern for members who have fallem off the map, so to speak. Still, it is up to you to pick yourself up. No one can give you self-respect except yourself.
Tired of getting the bum's rush? Stop being a bum. Tired of being a pariah? Try taking a bath. You are obviously a handsome man underneath all those scabs and all that filth, why not capitalise on that? That said, best of luck and stay away from my place of work.

Sincerely,
Magnus Skallagrimsson.

2 Comments:

Blogger Geosomin said...

hee hee...mutant babies.

19 June, 2006 09:12  
Blogger Magnus said...

Just like you me and Trent.

22 June, 2006 23:18  

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