Category Archives: Reader Mail

December 1, 2023

This morning’s email from Mgmt included a couple of options for blog entries today.  I hate both of them.  To wit:
Lexicology post: “Word of the Day: Lollygag.  Because isn’t that what we all secretly do on Fridays?”

Lucubrations post: “The sweet agony of Fridays: A nocturnal reflection.” “Why don’t you like either of these?”

Lollygag isn’t a cool enough word, and I don’t even know what this horseshit about the sweet agony of Fridays is even about.

“So what do you want to do?”

I dunno…not this.  How about some jokes?

“Because your jokes are, far more often than not, completely unacceptable and inappropriate.”

Exactly.  That’s what people need now, even if they don’t know it.  Even if they’ve been so beaten into submission that they’ve forgotten how to laugh at things that are legitimately funny, even though they are likely offensive.

“But your jokes are way over the line.”

What line?  I don’t subscribe to any line.  And I feel exactly zero obligation to acknowledge, let alone adhere, to someone else’s bullshitty line.

“Fine.  What jokes would you tell?”

I went to a paraplegic strip club.

“Oh no.”

The place was literally crawling with pussy.

“Absolutely not.  Do you realize how many levels that’s offensive on?”

That’s what makes it funny.  What is with you people and being offended?  As if that actually matters.  How about this one: What’s the best part of a hooker dying on you?

“You understand that even the set-ups for these jokes are offensive.”

I truly don’t.  And I’m a fucking writer…it’s my job to be offensive!

“Your job is to sell books.”

No, my job is to write books.  It’s your job to sell them.  Now: what’s the best part of a hooker dying on you?


The second hour is free.

“That’s not funny.”

It sure as hell is.

“It’s in bad taste.”

That’s kind of my whole deal.  In bad taste but…always accurate.

“What about answering some of your reader mail…we have one digital metric ton of emails we’ve received for you, and you haven’t even read, let alone responded to, any of them.”

Because the people that write in are generally BSC.

“They’re what?”

It’s a clinical term: Bat Shit Crazy.  But go ahead…send me a letter, I’ll respond.

“Okay.  Thank you.  Here you go:”

Dear Diary of a Viagra Fiend,
I must confess, I’ve been an ardent fan of your work for quite some time now.  But it’s not just the belly laughs or the guffaws that have me hooked.  Oh no, dear friend.  It’s how your words have magically transformed my morning ritual from a mundane chore into a caffeinated comedy club.
Every morning, as the sun peeks over the horizon, I trudge into my kitchen, half-asleep and fully grumpy.  The coffee pot is my first stop, my oasis in the desert of dawn.  As the dark, aromatic liquid fills my cup, I reach for your book, and suddenly, my kitchen morphs into a stage for your shenanigans.
Now, here’s the funny part (pun totally intended).  I swear on my grandmother’s poodle that your words somehow make my coffee taste better.  No, I haven’t lost my marbles.  Stick with me here.
As I read your tales, I can’t help but chuckle, snort, or even downright laugh out loud.  And let me tell you, there’s nothing like a good belly laugh to kickstart the ol’ taste buds.  Suddenly, my coffee tastes richer, bolder, more…alive.
It’s like your humor has a secret ingredient that, when mixed with caffeine, creates a superpower of sensory delight.  Is it in the sarcasm?  The irony?  Maybe it’s the rhetorical questions that make me feel like I’m part of your coffee-loving audience.  Or perhaps it’s the exaggerated stories that make even my most dreary mornings feel like a sitcom.
Whatever it is, your writing has turned my daily dose of caffeine into a full-blown comedy roast (get it?  Roast?  I’ve been learning from the best!).  So thank you, dear Diary of a Viagra Fiend.  Your words do more than just entertain.  They awaken my senses, tickly my funny bone, and yes, make my coffee taste better.
You need to publish another book.  Please!  Keep the laughs coming.
Yours in caffeine and comedy,

Jesus.  What am I supposed to do with this?  My book makes her coffee taste better?  She’s clearly disturbed.  And the letter seems to be to my book, not to me.

“I doubt that she’s actually disturbed.  Do you think your readers are disturbed?”

You have no idea.  Someone sent me a finger a couple of years ago.


Jesus indeed.

“She wants you to put something else out.  That seems to be a recurring theme with these letters.  Maybe you could talk about the 20th Anniversary Edition of ‘Diary.’

I haven’t signed off on that yet.  And that wouldn’t be until 2025.  I’m far more interested in 2024.

“So talk about 2024.”

I don’t want to.  2024’s going to happen whether I talk about it or not.

“You are, far and away, the most difficult client we have.”

Thank you.  That means a great deal to me.

N.P.: “Dragon” – Galaxie

Reader Mail.

Dear Jayson,
Are you aware of any laws regarding the number of times one can drive around a traffic circle without driving on in one direction or another?  Does that make sense? Like, you know traffic circles, right? So you’ve got to drive around part of the circle and get of at whatever outlet leads to your destination.  But can you just drive around the thing multiple times, or is that against the law?  It must be against the law, otherwise people would do it all the time. Like a victory lap or something.
Guccci Dome

What’s crackin’, Mr. Dome,
This is perhaps the best question I’ve ever gotten.  And thus is one that truly deserves an answer.  I called my attorney this afternoon to get an official “legal” answer, but he just called me names and lectured me about the time difference between California and Israel.  And so much for all that.  I’m afraid, Gooch…is that cool, if I call you Gooch?  I’m afraid, Gooch, that we’re left with one option: there is one of those insipid traffic circles in Old Town Anhedonia, so tomorrow afternoon, I’m going to break off whatever writing I’m doing and I’m going to climb into the Panty Dropper, head to Old Town, enter the traffic circle, and Go For It.  The traffic circle is in full view of APD Headquarters, so I’m guessing that if there is some arbitrary limit to how many times one may go around a traffic circle without exiting, Anhedonia’s Finest will let me know.  I will let you know of my findings tomorrow.

N.P.: “Trick or Treat” – Grace

Hey JG,
Just curious, do you kick your pets out of the room when you masturbate?  Why or why not?

Hey Rusty,
Just curious…why would you masturbate if you have pets?
Sorry, dude…couldn’t help it.  Too easy.

N.P.: “Galileo” – Puscifer

Hey Chief,
You said the other day that you had to choose from like a hundred something candidates and that you thought they were all batshit crazy. So did you just not vote for President?
Yers in Christ,

Hey Doug,
I wrote myself in. I always do that. Been doing that for decades. Kinda like buying a lottery ticket…who knows? This just might be the year when everyone comes to their senses and decides I’m the only person remotely qualified to lead this magnificent country the way it needs to be lead, into the 20s and beyond. I know I got 5-6 other votes, and I did exactly zero campaigning and spent no money. Not bad.

N.P.: “Emotional Rescue” – The Rolling Stones

I’ve been asked to list three things I did today.  Here goes:

  1. Drove at over 100mph on the deadliest freeway in the country.  Twice.
  2. Made a serial killer laugh.
  3. Made buffalo sauce from scratch.  And I put whiskey in it.  #Gettin’DrunkOnWings

N.P.: “Weird Beard” – Mad Caddies

Reader mail.

“Strong woman here..
I am not a “disgrace to women” because I don’t support the women’s march. I do not feel I am a “second class citizen” because I am a woman. I do not feel my voice is “not heard” because I am a woman. I do not feel I am not provided opportunities in this life or in America because I am a woman. I do not feel that I “don’t have control of my body or choices” because I am a woman. I do not feel like I am ” not respected or undermined” because I am a woman.
I AM a woman.
I can make my own choices.
I can speak and be heard.
I can VOTE.
I can work if I want.
I control my body.
I can defend myself.
I can defend my family.
There is nothing stopping me to do anything in this world but MYSELF.
I do not blame my circumstances or problems on anything other than my own choices or even that sometimes in life, we don’t always get what we want. I take responsibility for myself.
I am a mother, a daughter, a wife, a sister, a friend. I am not held back in life but only by the walls I choose to not go over which is a personal choice.
Quit blaming.
Take responsibility.
If you want to speak, do so. But do not expect for me, a woman, to take you seriously wearing a pink hat on your head and screaming profanities and bashing men.
If you have beliefs, and speak to me in a kind matter, I will listen. But do not expect for me to change my beliefs to suit yours. Respect goes both ways.
If you want to impress me, especially in regards to women, then speak on the real injustices and tragedies that affect women in foreign countries that do not that the opportunity or means to have their voices heard.
Saudi Arabia, women can’t drive, no rights and must always be covered.
China and India, infantcide of baby girls.
Afghanistan, unequal education rights.
Democratic Republic of Congo, where rapes are brutal and women are left to die, or HIV infected and left to care for children alone.
Mali, where women can not escape the torture of genital mutilation.
Pakistan, in tribal areas where women are gang raped to pay for men’s crime.
Guatemala, the impoverished female underclass of Guatemala faces domestic violence, rape and the second-highest rate of HIV/AIDS after sub-Saharan Africa. An epidemic of gruesome unsolved murders has left hundreds of women dead, some of their bodies left with hate messages.
And that’s just a few examples.
So when women get together in AMERICA and whine they don’t have equal rights and march in their clean clothes, after eating a hearty breakfast, and it’s like a vacation away that they have paid for to get there…
This WOMAN does not support it.”

Reader Mail (Continued).

Hell to you Jayson and everyone who can look on my bolg to see it, I am back of back injure and get better, now I am here to tell you on it what am I do? Huh? What can I do on it to change a world even when not doing puches and kicks? It can make me think.

So when I am back injure and laying on a bed with Jonny bring me drinks and play video games to show me, I am think about doing more writings and maybe even write a good movie.

Okay now a big surprise, to show you a movioes I am writig! I tell you a names of any movies I am write, then tell you a type of movies, then I tell you about a movie and what can it be?

Movie #1:
Love On A Fist
Remember a time of love. It is forever, and you will always have a fist to show it.

Movie #2:

Fist Fever
Dance forever in a heat of town. They can never stop it if you dance forever in a heat of town.

Movie #3:

Fist Of A Killer
On a fist of horrors, you will die if you wanna come.

Movie #4:

Love On A Fist 2: Fist Of A Killer
Remember a time of love. It will die now, because it cannot live forever. A killer have a fist to show it, and you gonna die now.

Movie #5:

There is a guy. He have a fist and he can kill you. Watch out, Wolly.

Okay! I am exciting to make a molvie and show any person of a world who can wanna see a good movie!

Soon I am show you a part of scrips that I am write! So you can read of a movie to know it can be good!


Wow, man.  You certainly have a lot of ideas.  And I’m sure every last one of them will be made into feature length films.  I’m not sure that I can bring anything to your table, here, movie-making-wise.  I’m pretty focused on this other screen-writing thing I’m doing right now, updating Dr. Seuss’s entire oeuvre into adult versions of the story.  Right now we are in pre-production on “Horton Hires a Ho.”   It is a grand, grand tale, my friend…perhaps the most intriguing thing I’ve worked on since that pop-up version of my first book that I did for the kids in Belarus.  Anyway, best of luck….

Do! Nuts!

Reader Mail.

Dear Mr. Jayson,
Hellos, I a big fan of anger, also fan of sun of destroy, just like you Mr. Jayson.  I like hangbang book, and we should make movie.  I am tell you I write a movies now, and I can make it good. And also I like fight.  I teach, talk, and tell of fight at my blog.  See my picture.  Is good to talk to you becows you strong of fight, say “Fucks!” and do good with strongs.  Don’t even take a shit if you don’t have to!  Sometime a people take a shit cause to be friends with you, I don’t like that, l like fight hard style, and so I like you.  Any kid I see, I tell , no no don’t take a shits for anyone, only GIVE shits, and see futures in balls.  Ma all the gods of furious strong be with you as you crunch opponents, and live like a windrammer as you fuck.  
Dear Jonny,
Hell yes, man: let’s make a movie.  I like fight hard style too, so I’m sure we’ll get along great.  How do you want to shoot this thing?
Have your people call my people,

Some Reader Mail.

I am just over two (2) years behind in responding to my reader mail, and today seemed like a reasonable enough day to delve into the pile, so here goes.
This first letter is from Guadalupe, whom, in addition to supplying the mandatory picture:
also writes, “Who are your top ten favorite fictional characters?”
Oh, hells bells, Guadalupe…you mean other than myself?  Not that I’ve ever bothered to think about it, but now that I do, I guess no one, really.
We kid, of course, Guadalupe.
Okay, off the top of my head (my shrinks are going to go apeshit over this), in no particular order (except for the first two):
10. Kurtz
That’s it.  Do with it what you will.
All right…back to it.