Dear Honorable Mr. Waxman,

I am writing you, my congressman, in an ongoing attempt to find justice. Several months back I ordered a film from a mail order house in Indiana that was supposed to be chock full of midgets having sex. I receieved the film in question and was shocked to find but one midget in the whole film. I’d been hoodwinked, bamboozled, waylayed and otherwise led astray. That was just the beginning of this terrifying oddessey.

Since then I have contacted the company, the Better Business Bureau and even a consumer advocate in an attempt to rectify this travesty of consumer rights.

I have nothing but the empty sound of silence on all fronts.

Maybe the nature of the product casts me in an unfavorable light. Maybe folks are reluctant to standup for me because of the perceived pornographic nature of midget love or maybe they just hate midgets, I don’t know. But I know my rights as an American. I know that if you sell me a video entitled “Sexual Experinces With Midgets”(plural), there had better be, at minimum, two midgets or everything that our forefathers fought the Bloody British for in 1776 is as good as swirling down the toilet.

Please get behind me on this, Honorable Waxman, and together we can make these people see what American Pride is all about.

The company in question is: Leisure Time Products P.O. BoxM827 Gary IN 46401-0827 800-874-8960

Thanking you in advance,
Doug Stanhope

PS. Be aware that this company does NOT take C.O.D. orders.

Dear The Fine Folks of The State of Wyoming,

I was recently driving through your lovely state and was simply dumbstruck by the natural wonders and awe- inspiring landscapes encased within your borders. Time just seems to stop when in Wyoming and I felt like a child with Downs Syndrome visiting Coney Island for the first time. Unfortunately, as I lost track of time I also lost track of my speed and before you know it I was seeing flashing lights in my rear window. At first I had to assume it was aliens, being that I hadn’t seen many car models in your state later than rusted-out 70’s muscle cars and the occasional backfiring Dodge Omni but I eventually realized it was an actual officer of the law and I yielded.

Having lived in Los Angeles for the last several years, I just assumed I would be taken torn from my automobile and flogged within a hair of my very existence and I prepared for the beating. Imagine my surprise when your very handsome officer asked me how I was doing and flashed a smile that revealed what may have been teeth! It was like being in another era altogether! He informed me that I had been travelling at a rate of 86 miles per hour in a 75 mile per hour zone. I gave him my license and registration and was again amazed as he sounded out all the words on the paperwork with his mouth, only getting stuck on the ones with multiple syllables or silent letters. He retreated to his car walking upright and returned moments later with a pink ticket and a remorseful expression, explaining that he had no choice but to cite me. He seemed like a sad monkey but cheered a bit when he added that he was able to take ten dollars off the cost due to me wearing a seat belt. I could have kissed him and may have, save for my fear of being taken out to one of your famous deserted fenceposts and pistol-whipped. I thanked him and he bid me farewell with a long look like a boy seeing his abusive alcoholic father being taken off to a state facility against his will, a sense of shame and justice all in one.

It wasn’t until later when I pulled into a Kum & Go in Evanston to evacuate my sniffling bowels that I realized the horrible breach of justice that had occurred. I noticed my watch and realized that I had only completed 51 miles of my trip in the previous hour.

Prior to my being stopped by your beautiful keeper of the peace, I had spent time in the far toilet at a rest area with a smooth young vagrant/rough-houser named Jorge who had showed my what its like to be a man through two vicious sessions of oral indiscretions. Between the face-rape and the traffic stop, I had come nowhere near travelling 86 miles in an hour! How could I possibly be cited for going 86 miles in that time period? I was tempted to go back and try an find him to explain basic math to him but I must have got a bad corn tortilla somewhere on the trip and my ass was spitting fire-water and Death’s oatmeal so I decided to try and make it to Salt Lake as soon as possible.

I am sure you people can see the error this sweet but feeble and, in all probabilty, horribly inbred man has made and make it right. I have enclosed a check to show good faith in the meantime, including the extra ten dollars he had told me he’d forgiven as I had to later take off my seatbelt so I wouldn’t mud-wash my jockey-boxers.

Please get back with me as soon as time permits.

Sincerely,
Douglas Stanhope

Dear K-Mart,

I just got done restocking my galpal's entire wardrobe with your fashionable yet sensible clothing line and let me tell you, am I going to sleep better at night! Why, you ask? I'll tell you why.

Almost a year ago, after a long night of drinking and carrying on to celebrate her sisters recovery and remission from lymphoma, my ladyfriend Maura was brutally raped by a group of Kiwanis conventioneers. Last week a jury found the three men accused "not guilty" on all charges. The jury had agreed with the defense suggestion that she had led the men on and was, in fact, "asking for it by the way she was dressed". Our hearts sunk when the verdict was read as we desperately sought closure and redemption in the whole affair, yet none of us could really say that we disagreed completely.

You see, Maura frequently wore clothing purchased from the Gap and we'd warned over and over that she looked like a floozie, that her sexy outfits were going to find her in a heap of trouble. She never would listen. She's listening now. We purchased several fancy ensembles from your fine store that are quite dashing without revealing any unnecessary femininity or revealing any shape or form. Your sport-yet-thrifty looks prove that you can look snappy without inviting the temptation of cruel sodomites. We all wonder why you don't use this as more of a marketing tool? "Wear Kmart clothes! Look great without being violently raped and maybe stabbed!" Imagine how effective an advertisement that would be. Or maybe you could target the Gap outright, as in "Kmart Clothes! You may not see these styles at the Oscars, but at least they won't get your lady friend viciously accosted sexually by boozing miscreants like the Gap will!". It would be as much a public service message as it would be an advertisement (which, btw, I pronounce ad-VERT-is-ment, not ad-ver_TIZ-ment).

Please let me know what you think about these ideas and also let me know if you'd be interested in having Maura and myself as spokespeople for the ad campaign. We'd be happy to do it for only 1,200 dollars or best offer.

Thank you,
Doug Stanhope

PS: Would you be willing to have Kmart's attorney's represent me in a civil trial against the Gap in this matter? Let me know.

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Dear Doug,

Thank you for your inquiry regarding a possible business relationship with BlueLight.com. We are delighted by your interest in our company.

As an up-and-coming new company, BlueLight.com is growing and changing rapidly. Over the next year we plan to expand both our website and our strategic business partnerships. We are always looking for potential partners. Your correspondence has been forwarded to our business development team and will be kept on file. As our plans come into focus this year, we may contact you to explore working together.

The BlueLight.com website is full of information to assist you. You may find the answer to your question by browsing through our Frequently Asked Questions. If not, we are always here to help! Just call (800)355-6388 for assistance.

Once again, thanks for your interest in BlueLight.com.

--Your BlueLight.com Customer Care Team

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Dear KMart,

Thank you but my letter was not about a business partnership. It was about my galpal being violently raped and brutally sodomized. I'm glad to see you confuse that with business.

Disgusted,
Doug Stanhope

Dear Mr. Boyardee,

I recently purchased a can of your rich and creamy Beefaroni and read under “Nutrition Facts” that it was supposed to contain 7 grams of fat and 3 grams of saturated fat. Having been put on a strict diet by my physician, I pay careful attention to these details. So, while I was stirring it in my Teflon frying pan, I counted but was only able to find 2 grams of saturated fat and five and a half grams of fat overall.

I checked to see if there may have been some fat left in the bottom of the can but it was scraped clean. You may suggest that some might have spilled out during transfer to the pan but I checked that as well. All signs point to me getting canoodled out of a gram and a half of fat that I paid for, fair and square. I’d assume that you’d have some kind of quality control department that would assure against these type of oversights. I also found what I thought to be a morsel of E-coli but my wife assured me it was gristle. Let’s hope so.

Please let me know how I can obtain my missing gram and a half of fat ( One full gram saturated) so as I can finish my meal.

Hungrily,
Doug Stanhope

PS. Our daughter is getting married this fall and we were wondering if Mr. Boyardee was available to cater it. October the 15th is the date and money, of course, is no object. Please let us know as soon as possible.

Dear Mike Tyson,

I watched your fight Saturday night over at my friend Erica’s house and man did you take a thumping. That British character really put the gloves to you. I watched some of the instant replays and I think I could give you some pointers on how to handle the situation if it ever happens again.

First of all, it’s important to remain calm. Speak to your attacker in a soft and soothing tone. Say he tells you “You’re going down!”, you could respond quietly by saying “OK, my friend, I will go down.“ or “Where would you like me to go down?”. Keep in mind that he’s as afraid as you are. Whatever you do, don’t go out there swinging your fists like a crazy person. Let’s face it, you’re no fighter.

If you find it impossible to avoid violence, don’t try to fight his fight. He’s obviously been down this road and you trying to slug will just make him testy. My advice is to play crazy. Just start bawling and pounding your hands on your head. Then start defecating on yourself and speaking in tongues. It worked for me when I was approached by two women soliciting donations for the Jaycees, it may work for you.

Another thing to remember is that there is strength in numbers. I noticed early on a line of security men in yellow shirts forming a line across the ring. Why in heck did you let those guys leave? Certainly they weren’t nearly as imposing as that Lewis fellow but the sheer numbers might have dissuaded him from physically pummeling you like an eight dollar whore. Next time maybe you could pal it up with them and see if they’d walk you home.

What was most baffling is that after each time he beat you half silly you’d go to your corner and then come back for more. What in St James were you thinking? I have seen this before with lady friends in abusive relationships. They go and get the tar knocked out of them by their husband, run to Mother’s house crying, get some good sound advice and a hug and the next thing you know they go right back to the man to suffer another whipping. Stop making excuses for his behavior. You say he’ll change, you say he’s only like that when he’s been hitting the lager but the truth is that he’s an abuser and always will be unless he gets help. You deserve more, Mike.

I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but you should really pay more attention to what you wear when you go out. I’m not saying you were asking for it by the way you were dressed but to walk around in shorts and no shirt on a Saturday night is almost begging for trouble. When he beat you til you couldn’t walk anymore I quite honestly thought he was going to fuck you in the mouth right there. Anyone who could abuse you that mercilessly in front of all those people wouldn’t hesitate to drop his trousers and paste you a dirty one right in the ass for good measure. Next time wear a windbreaker or maybe a light sweater.

I know none of this is any of my business but I have been a big fan of your work since you were on Court TV and I think your impressions are hilarious. My favorite is the one you always do where you sound like a semi-retarded park fairy with the IQ of a meatball. As much as you do it, I never stop laughing. Just try to stay out of fights and get back to making folks chuckle

Your fan and friend
Doug Stanhope