Postbag

My dearest Gonkie,

I am a little alarmed at your recent efforts at drumming up correspondence for your so called Postbag.

In this month's issue of SW (#11) you include a paltry two "reader's" letters, the former being a line from some junk mail that your Gran presumably found on her doormat and the latter purporting to be my public outing as a transvestite.

This, Sir, is an outrage!

Not only did I not peruse your article about Valentine's Day gifts (not being of a romantic disposition) but I certainly did not avail myself of the wares of so-called Archie McPhee.

As you well know, I have my lingerie tailor-made in the best gentleman's hosiery establishment in Dublin, Belts and Brassieres on Grafton Street.

Might I suggest that you excite reader comment in future by publishing articles with a little more controversy than an expose of glass.

I bid you good day, Sir, and hope that you can live with your conscience.

I remain blah-de-blah, yours,

Kevin Cherubini
Cami-brief Consultant, Fatkev Inc.

SW responds:

I cannot possibly imagine to what you are referring. You seem to be suggesting that some of the letters quoted on this page may not have been entirely genuine. If I receive letters, then I take them in good faith. If you don't like the quality of letters on this page, then all I can suggest is that you write to yourself!

As for your transvestism, I am completely unaware of how you can read into the contents of that letter anything concerning such a topic. Far more outrageous is the fact that you willingly admit to failing to peruse each and every page of this publication. There can be no crime greater. You must immediately perform a penance of shamelessly promoting this site, and of giving up armadillos for a period of not less than one month.

If you are inclined to favour more sensational topics than that of glass, then please forward any suggestions of what you would like to see (except for female arse fondlers) to .