Letter to Wonkette

A generic cube farm, somewhere in Boston …

Bill:
I'd pay top dollar to see Wonkette and Catalano in catfight with jello and bikinis.

 

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Doug:
And tequila! Lots of tequila.

 

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Bill:
Howard Sterns' boyfriend Jarvis says "she could well be The Prettiest Blogger."

 

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Doug:
I'm in serious love with Wonkette.

 

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Bill:
You think she's a Red Sox fan?

 

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Doug:
Doubt it, dude. That'd be too good to be true.

 

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Bill:
You ought to email her and ask.

 

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Doug:
Wonkette's too cool to respond to such a mundane email.

 

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Doug:
I'd need to write something like this: "Dear Wonkette, I maybe ain't so good at speechifying, but I can sure as fuck split my head open and deliver its real hardworking matter to the hungry air! I can also turn furniture upside down (if it isn't too heavy). The fucking point is clear: I may not be an individual, but I'm still a force to be reckoned with. Forget this, and my bloody head will be all over you fucking upside down furniture."

 

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Bill:
Bra-effin-oh! Chicks love the "I'm totally fucking insane" angle. [Laughter]

 

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Doug:
They don't call me the "Green Monster" for nothing!

 

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A few hours later …

Bill:
Hey, I emailed Wonkette on her baseball loyalties.

 

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Doug:
Get out! And she replied?

 

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Bill:
In a heartbeat. The Wonkette is all class … well, when she's not talking about ass-fucking that is. [Laughs]

 

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Doug:
So what's the verdict? Is she the stuff of my Red Sox wet dreams?

 

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Bill:
Verbatim from her email reply: " The Yankees are the Microsoft of baseball. I'd sooner vote for Bush than cheer for their raggedy pinstriped asses. …"

 

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Doug:
Sweet!

 

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Bill:
"But I hate to disappoint: As much as I hate the Yankees, and as much sympathy as I have for the Sox. . . I am a Cubs fan. Long suffering, loyal, disappointed. This is the year, amc"

 

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Doug:
I was gonna guess she was for the Cubbies. That's cool. We are like kissing cousins, us and the Cubs fans.

 

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Bill:
Hey, Curt motherfucking Schilling is in the house near the house where Ruth was born but he didn't build.

 

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Doug:
three oh five p.m. Any chance of sneaking outta here early to catch it at the Cask?

 

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Bill:
Let me see what I can do. Ol' man Scrivener still has his tighty whities all bunching up his ass, so no promises.

 

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Doug's imagined email to Wonkette is from Joe Wenderoth's brilliant Letters to Wendy's, entry March 18, 1997.

Comments

[michele]

Red Sox fan? I wouldn't make jello for you let alone wrestle in it. Hell, I'd rather jello wrestle with Bill Cosby himself than entertain a Red Sox fan.

[Ok, so I was mildly amused by this]

[Azrael]

Nice. I think I can finally end my vow of silence concerning the debacle that was last years AL (and NL!) CS. Good to see wonkette is also on the right side, even if she goes for the national league love.

[Another Red Sox fan]

You lads have clearly never seen the Wonkette in the flesh. Although the little sketch of her at the top of her site is adorable, she isnt quite as cute or hot as the sketch woould have us all beleive.
Washingtonian magazine ran a brief bit on her last month, with a real pic of the real thing...she is within acceptable limits, but it is a good thing for everyone that she is married.
More so it is a good thing for her. But her site is fun...

[wonkette]

Oh, I fall way, way outside acceptable limits. . . that Washingtonian photo was the best they could do after 5 hours of Photoshop and two days in a rubber suit (mmmmm.. . rubber suit). My husband suffers from an eye condition.

[a loyal wonketeer]

Yeah. What she said.

[angry sam]

Wonkette, if your husband ever buys a pair of glasses, you have my email...

[michele]

I have it on good authority that Ms. Wonkette is so hot, she'll melt the jello when we wrestle.

[TidyCat]

I dunno, if this is *the* Wonkette, she looks pretty good to me. Now, where's that rubber suit....

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