A (Pointless) Letter to Deryk Masters
Dear Deryk Masters,
What a delight to read the first of hopefully many
publications of your new Cinq magazine. I remember
fondly fishing out a copy of this mag from the depths
of the garbage bin amidst empty beer bottles, chip
packets, chicken scraps and cigarette butts thinking
to myself that this looked infinitely more promising
than the last bit of rubbish I found in the trash (
Dan Brown's 'The Da Vinci Code'- a vaguely interesting
read written...badly...by a hack who will make more money than
yours truly in this, and well into the next,
Your articles SEEMED well researched- hard to tell in
this day and age of the Internet and "electronic mail"
where for most people 'research' consists of going to
google.com and scratching ones nuts for half an hour
while one downloads all pertinent information. I
particularly enjoyed the antics of the half-wits of
Gloucestershire, England who annually follow a 7lb
roll of cheese (a Double Gloucester) down a cliff face
like hapless lemmings. And Urban golf seemed a hoot.
Why not take a swing at golf balls in industrial areas
and city streets?
However I was a tad disappointed at the lack of sumo
wrestling. As a gentleman who enjoys the humble
pleasures of wagering on two chronically obese
'rikishi' going pound for pound at each other (much
like cow tipping,but when the cows tip back) I was
left wanting more. Too often we see rake thin athletes
who eat only two or three meals a day (gasp). I want
to see photos and articles of dudes who are so fat
that everytime they go for a swim in the ocean they
emerge with several harpoons stuck in their flab.
Yours blah, blah, blah,
S.Heazlewood, a.k.a. Fatman
p.s. I realise the suicidal nature of lemmings is a
fallacy but, what the hell....