Mail Call

What with the holidays and all, things have gotten a little backed up here at the spitoutyourgum HQs, but my Man Friday (nee Vincenzo Epperstein) is back from his lavish vacation in Peoria, so after having him clip my toenails, I sent him to work going through the cartons of mail we've received over the last few weeks. He's culled the more interesting ones (aka the ones that don't simply ask for an autographed 8" x 10" glossy or for me to make them a buckeye rosary) for me to peruse and reply to, so here goes.

• Aptly, a Mr. Tony Frudge from Boone, North Carolina, writes: "What's the deal with the U.S. Postal System's 'Forever' stamp? Just to test the honesty of the govment I mailed a letter to myself, affixing one of the aforementioned stamps. It arrived on time, but the stamp was canceled, making further use impossible. How can they call it a 'Forever' stamp if you can only use it once?"

Well, Mr. Frudge, that's an excellent question. I'll look into it. Next time, spend a few extra bucks and mail yourself a life.

• A Connor M. from University Heights, Ohio, writes, "How 'bout them Browns? Four straight to close out the season! As the first round games of the NFL playoffs are usually a bore, don't you think the NFL should have a "Meaningless Bowl" pitting the hottest non-playoff team at the end of the year vs. the coldest non-playoff team? I think a Browns-Giants game, with absolutely nothing on the line, would be a real barn burner, don't you?"

Well, Connor, that's an interesting question. Next time Bob Costas texts me about his hair, I'll run it by him. In the meantime, I'll call a priest friend of mine and have him administer last rites to the Giants.

• Melissa Cornfed from Alberta, Canada, writes, "How come you never post a rendition of 'O Canada' on your site? It kicks ass more than any Bob Dylan song."

Well, Melissa, that's an insane question. The only time the words "O Canada" are uttered in my presence are late at night when I'm trying to fall asleep by listing, in alphabetical order, all the countries in North America. Usually, after twenty minutes or so of tortured tossing and turning, I finally remember the one I've been forgetting, mutter, "O, Canada," and smack myself on the head so hard I knock myself unconscious for a good eight hours. As for kicking ass, Bob doesn't need to; his hair does it for him.

• A Zimbe, from Nigeria, writes a long letter that, to cut to the chase, says he's going to wire seven billion dollars to me if I just provide him with the metaphorical keys to the spitoutyourgum engine room.

Well, Zimbe, that's an intriguing proposition. But when we're talking my intellectual property, the discussion doesn't begin until we're talking eleven figures, at least. Contact Vincenzo with a counter offer, if you're interested in being at all serious.

• A Bro, from Camden, New Jersey, writes, "Yo dude, what's your take on the word mucilage?"

Well, Bro, for starters, the word mucilage is about 40,000 pegs above the words bro, yo, and dude on my all-time favorite words list. Personally I think the word would work better if it denoted something edible, with lots of ruffage and maybe a bit of a bitter after taste, though I'm not too proud to say that in times of hunger I've gained a small amount of sustenance from licking envelopes and non-forever, non-adhesive stamps. That being said, while not quite cracking my top 100 words, it's a thoroughly quality word and one that should be worked into more people's daily vocabulary. Especially yours, I feel.

• A "your postal carrier" from Cleveland Heights, Ohio, writes, "If you wanna see your tax refund check come spring, Bucko, shovel your damned driveway and walkway daily until April 15th, got it?"

Well, pc, ever since an unfortunate incident in Bucyrus involving a Mormon, a snow blower, and a pound of sausage, I normally don't respond to the appellation "Bucko," but in the interests of commerce and the American Way, I'll get Vincenzo on it right away. Holster your mace, now.

Slim Harpo-Mailbox Blues