---

Dearest Editor,
Ah, Friday night.
What a greet country.
What a great guitar.
The bluez is where it's at.
The G-man (Igloo Lick)

Dear itsvits:
Hey there, hi there, ho there.

They don't write them like they used to.

I think they passed a law or something.
How can they pass a law so easy. So easily.

Well, some things you don't wanna know about.

Lots of things actually.
Hers, Groucho (L.A.)
p.s.vits. Damn doctors. They win either way.

Dear ivica:
Sports is just another cult.
Try talking to the big lugs while the game is on.
Miss Keriel Strange (Fat City)
P.S. Don’t feed the children, feed the millionaires.

Dear Editors:
Good old St. Joe's ain't what it used to be.
Kids in a dangerous time.
Wild lions with rocket-launchers all around.
Patricia Delicia (East Pork)
P.S. Are jeans and ponytails still cool?

dear editor guy,
dogz is idiots.
i meen were iz dere prosentaj.
dey'd kiss hitler or the poop,
it's all de same to dem.
feed me....
dogz stink.
blithe catholic (Tin Cap)
post skriptum dogz kan kiss me royal tail.

Dear Mister Ivica:
Slow and sure.
Sure and good.
Simple and mean.

The Inuit (Flatland)
PS I like your tv. Very flat. Very real.

Dear ivica, man:
Summertime. Another Summer of Love.
Strawberry Fields Forever.
Like, pass it around.
Sunshine (the West Coast)

Dear Editor:
The minority Prime Minister thinks he's got it easy.
  cause the opposition are disorientated.
Maybe he's right.
But the Conservatives were in that drifting boat just a little while ago.
And the American Left too. Scrambling and aimless.
But it'll change suddenly and with out warning.
Joe 23 (Hog Town)
P.S. Don't forget to count the silverware when this one leaves too.

Hey Ivica
Look at the garbage pile up. Piles and piles of it. Everywhere.
It's getting so you can't tell the garbage they eat
from the garbage they throw away.
Luv,
The Skinny Girrls of Carrot Creek