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Yes, these are real. Yes, it is ok to publish them. They were remade into a chapbook called Letters to Vienna, by Ian Sullivan Cant. Check out his brandspankingnew site and order a copy up for yourself: unkindnesspress.ca.

date		1 February 2010 17:30
mailed-by		gmail.com
Signed by		gmail.com

--from Gus--

I heard the chruch got organ money but now needs roof money. The other night, lying in bed next to a friend she heard me say, in my sleep, "english breakfast tea please" and as did i, i woke myself up saying it and laughed my head off ha ha ha ha

something EXTREMELY nice

I have a bad taste in my mouth equivalent to your crummy feeling, and I want to erase both like fucking immediately. Even at the indeterminate expense of not mollycoddling a friend. For example going out with you somewhere in the immediate future and possibly laughing enormously and with bigness. I'll tell you about the time I almost got arrested by the Serbian militia, and about how I almost died in the Gulf of Aqaba, and about an 8-year journey to the summit of a mountain overlooking Salzburg and how the sun rose and I blasted Dark Side of the Moon in a fine drizzle looking across the valley at Hitler's Obersalzburg. And then I'll tell you my Auschwitz joke. It's not really a joke, it's a true story about Walter Matthau's eulogy for Billy Wilder, but it's funny as all get out. And then I'll tell you about the time I was the last man standing at a wedding in southern Poland. And about retarded children in Brittany. And trying to watch the Superbowl in a small Italian town on a Sunday. I have enough to regale you for days and days. Weeks. Months. Years. But you have to be not too busy, obviously. Just say yes.



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Yeah totally STOLE this.