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Subcomandante Bob's Mailbag

(Toledo, OH) From time to time Subcomandante Bob gets letters. OK, he gets a lot of letters from bill collectors and municipal courts, but we aren't talking about those kinds of letters. Those get stuffed into a drawer under the television set, and only get taken out when Bob needs something to light the grill with.

The letters we are talking about are those from readers. Bob, for an unexplained reason, seems to evoke in readers a belief that he has advice to offer, advice that only comes from hard living and associating with ne'er-do-wells.

That being said we bring to you a few letters from Bob's mailbag:

Dear Subcomandante Bob:

The last thing I remember was leaving my house about 8:00 on Friday night. Now there's a dead woman in my car and about 45 messages on my voicemail. Help!!

Sam in Sylvania

Dear Sam:

Now let me ask you a question, Sam. When you drove in here, did you notice a sign out in front that said, "Dead woman storage"? Answer the question! Did you see a sign out in front of my house that said "Dead woman storage"? You know why you didn't see that sign? 'Cause storin' dead women ain't my fuckin' business!

Dear Bob:

Maybe I hang around here a little more than I should. We both know I got somewhere else to go, but I got something to tell you, that I never thought I would. But I believe you really ought to know - I love you. I honestly love you.

Liv, down under

Dear Liv:

Turn around and walk right back out the door. There was a good reason I got that restraining order in 1973. Go away.

Dear Bob:

I thought we had a good relationship, Toledo and me. I go and do a little window shopping, and now everyone hates me. What happened to the love?

Eugene in Toledo...err...Cleveland

Dear Eugene:

I know how you feel, friend. One minute everyone loves you, and the next you've got an angry mob with pitchforks and torches chasing you out of town. Say, bud - do you have that $20 we bet on the NBA Finals last year? Macbook American Idol

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