(This strange screed has come to my attention. I share it here. - BY)
Dear Sara Ms Palluns or Mrs Palluns,
Hi, you don't know me, but I sure know you. I have two eyes and ears and a TV--wow! That's what I gotta say. Okay, I don't have any dog or gun. But I got a heart as big as can be without causing injury to self or others. And this heart loves you and even some known parts of Alaska, where I know you go to hide wounds when the world gets so sick & wants a piece of a heroic heroine to stomp and grind in socialistic filth etc.
This crazy fabulous country of ours is going to the dogs all right (sorry, no insult to any nice clean "Mush you mutts!"). Your A-1 defense of our many private-owned restricted values of this great nation, best that ever was and will be, as we might come to know it if those you-know-what panty-somethings don't wreck and slime it with dirt--what weird dirt is that, anyway?--is great & brings such a smile, I can face each day with a prayer to you. I confess, okay, I say a couple prayers at you, when pretty stark naked in midnight privacy of this vile spare bedroom where I have been UNFAIRLY exiled from quarters rightly belonging to me & to this enormous heart I have always had, for this great country and now you. Okay, they have taken away my gun catalogs and metric ton of dog biscuits--why? Why? But I will not be defeated, not with you shining up there on TV, you whom I know & love so well!
I tell you I have learned many versions of yr speech (are there more?) about freedom, liberty and such. Even in Russian too cuz ole Vlad Puttman is right there, eyeballing, and he is a dwarf, I believe, and you know what that means! (Pardon my worldiness, I have been to a couple of bars in my life, you know). Anyway, freedom and prayer, that's what I get from you. Thank you, strong foxy Sara Ms or Mrs Palluns! Something about tea, also, huh? This puzzle bitty, I have to say, okay? None I know admits to drinking tea, maybe is a code for some kind of race hate? That is alarming, my god, but kind of jolly too, I admit! In the privacy of quarters to which I am UNFAIRLY exiled, I can enjoy a private thought or two--that is what makes this country great, until the panty-somethings never born here, incl youknowwho there sneering in our nation's great capital, him and his socialist banker cronies with their teeth full of filth etc.
I am appealing to you in this letter just to say hi and fight on, and also, please, can you help me get back my dog biscuits?
Yrs, from one UNFAIRLY exiled,