The Love Letter

Fergis Writes Form Letters

Occasionally weary travellers of the Interweb will stumble upon this humble site with the intention of finding something useful. Until now, they have had to move on to more informative virtual pastures but no longer. Please enjoy the following form letter you-can-use. Though you probably shouldn’t.

The Love Letter:

The aim of the love letter is to make the object of your desire swoon with passionate lust. Since the beginning of flat surfaces and burnt sticks, the love-stricken have used love letters to attract romance.

Though recent studies have indicated cavemen simply masturbated on to the nearest wall to demonstrate their intentions to mate, it’s up to you to decide which is more poetic.

Start by describing the physical features of the recipient and how those features make you feel. Be descriptive and honest. Pour your heart into it and likely there will be something within that resonates with your love-interest.


Hey Baby [or the name if you know it],

When I first saw you at the bar, I nearly crapped my pants. You were that beautiful and probably still are.

After I made it to third base with your best friend in the back of my Saturn, I knew that you were the one to have my heart.

Your lips are like two beautiful hot dogs left on the pavement to curl under the hot summer sun. Your eyes are similar to holes made by a hole-punch in the paper of my crotch. Your ass is like the unresolved court proceedings that drive me crazy, even though the psychiatric evaluation indicates I’m sane enough to stand trial. Your teeth are also mostly straight which is a plus. And you’re totally not fat.

Please meet me at the Econolodge at [insert date and time] wearing the costume attached.

[Your Name]

PS: Can you bring your best friend too? We have some unfinished business together. Wink, wink!

PPS: No cops! Wink, wink!

Dear Visitor 60,000!

While you may be simply visiting here for the celebrity gossip, I ‘d like to offer you a personalized message nonetheless.

Here it is:

Thank you Visitor 60,000. I wanted to do this for Visitor 50,000 but I forgot and then the numbers ballooned to limits not thought possible. I had to be patient. You see Visitor 60,000, I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.

It’s been a fine year for me. I’ve written meaningful correspondence with various objects and people, earned a pair of robot boots and a sack of gems, built a homunculus, killed a homunculus etc. etc.

This is well and good, but sadly something is amiss within the meaty cockles of my chest. I’m not sure why I feel the need to share this information with you Visitor 60,000 but I must. I can’t seem to put my finger on it. Perhaps my enemies have been secretly increasing in strength and it is indeed time for me to flee. Maybe my odd sleeping patterns are having an effect. In an effort to be considered to colonize Mars, I’ve recently switched to Martian time. The Martian day is only 39 minutes longer than an Earth day, but I’ve started to think the subtle change is producing unintended effects.

We have a connection you and I, a connection that I intended to have with Visitor 50,000. But like so many things, it wasn’t meant to be. But you and I are different. One day we will travel to the Red Planet…

I can see it now…


Fergis T. McGillicuddy

Dear 2007

Hey good lookin’,

It was funny of you to lock me up in a poorly-lit room and force me to sleep nearly 23 hours a day. I don’t hold it against you. There is nothing like ringing in a fresh year with a 16 day hibernation. When I woke up I recalled the start of 2006…apparently I made notes:

Annotated Predictions for 2006:

1. Sale of post-Apocalyptic goggles increases.

My sources tell me this is true. It makes sense…nobody wants to get Mad Max-sand in their eyes while they are trading handjobs for water.

2. George W. sprouts horns and a tail in front of the Washington press Corp. The White House turns red.

Well…George had a rough year. On Jan. 11, 2007 he said the best way to get troops out of Iraq was to order another 21,500 in to Iraq. The he sprouted horns and a tail and spat fireballs at the Washington journalists. However, that was in 2007…so it doesn’t count.

3. Another season of Survivor goes unnoticed.

Is Survivor even on television anymore?

4. Dr. Phil is charged with having sex with a goat.

Is Dr. Phil even on television anymore?

5. That goat is Michael Jackson.

What Dr. Phil and Michael Jackson do with each other under the influence of Pinot Noir and pretty sunsets is their business as far as the public is concerned.

6. China lands on the moon and immediately sets up the first sweatshop in space. It makes American flags.

Turns out the first sweatshop in space makes zero-gravity Mardi Gras beads.

7. I run as a Green party candidate in the next Canadian federal election. The next election will be called as soon as the results of the last election (Jan.23) are returned. I lose to a Conservative moose named Curtis Taxless.

So far—no election. Conservative moose have heavily fortified their interests during incumbency. My chances of election are bleak.

8. Google will start a micronation in the South Pacific. They threaten to remove their search engine from the web unless the UN recognizes their sovereignty. Google-opia is born as Kofi Annan is an avid gmail user.

Sadly YouTube got to it first. It’s pixelated and sort of boring to watch…unless a person is at work.

9. This is the best post of the year.

There were a couple good ones. I like the one about Finola Hackett. She’s spell-tastic.

10. A new style of hat is invented called the trout-stick.

I invented this. I wear it around the house. The prototype needs some work.


Fergis T. McGillicuddy

Dear Fergis T. McGillicuddy

I found your last letter lazy, sophomoric and crass. I thought you were more professional than that. You’ve got to get your shit together Fergis. Bourbon doesn’t grow on trees. You won’t get the scratch for it by penning smarmy celebrity gossip. Who knows how you’ll get it? You certainly don’t.

Put some effort in boy. Craft a witty and well-thought out letter to Frankenstein’s Monster, a wine decanter or foreign politics.


Fergis T. McGillicuddy