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When Intern George isn’t rubbing our feet, scrawling “Mr. George Fug Girls” on his Trapper Keeper, or peeling grapes that he then feeds us from a silver platter — as we lounge on our chaises and swoon, “Dahling, WHITHER the fug today, I shall simply PERISH if Katy Perry doesn’t soon leave the house in a latex jumpsuit!” — we sometimes let him answer our mail. And today, we decided to let him print some of his answers. We swear on all things holy (so, on George himself) that these are all VERY real e-mails we’ve received at GFY HQ, with names removed to protect the somewhat innocent.


E-mail #1

Subject line: Evan rachel wood fan


hi evan just checkeing how you are and i here across the univers has just
come out on dvd i am going to watch soon hopefilly i have this deal called love
film you choose as many dvs as you want and they will send you 2 at a time
across the univers is at the top off my list so i am just waiting for them to
send it to me.


Dear Friend,

Do not sell yourself short. True love means more than two at a time (which anyone on the Ocean’s Whatever sets will tell you, nudge, nudge!). You deserve a movie company who will cherish you as I would: arms wide open, chest broad, man-scent tickling your nostrils, and infinite little embraces you don’t have to wait to receive. Also, have you seen Space Camp? It’s divinity on a disc. Just like Across the Universe, but with fewer songs, more space, a different plot, and a robot. It may change your life. It WILL change your movie-ordering queue.

Jinx put Max in space,

G


E-mail #2

Subject line: RE

I am Mr.Chen,I got a Deal for you.Get back for details

Dear Friend,

I would love a subscription to Details. How did you know? I do wish it had more quizzes, though. Have you read Cosmopolitan?
Wonderful stuff. Please let the editors know that real men crave
stories about the degrees of tenderness with which to caress a friend,
or when it’s okay in a relationship to let your lover know about your
villa, or 197 Ways To Rock The Sack, or perhaps something about what to
do when Brad Pitt won’t stop sending you really inappropriate gag gifts
pertaining to the title of your latest movie, The Men Who Stare At Goats. Oh, but I can’t stay mad at Brad. He’s too huggable. Perhaps I could write a guest column at Details called “Man-Hugs And You: Partners In Freedom”? Let me know, sweet Mr. Chen.

Let’s subscribe to each other,

G


E-mail #3

Subject line: LILO

HAY YOU MEAN F—ERS
 
MY A 24 YEAR OLD WOMAN AND I’M A BIG FAN OF
LILO’S, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT THINK,
THE WAY PEOPLE TRY SO HARD TO TAKE THE PISS OUT OF
HER,
IS PATHETIC WHY PUT HER DOWN ALL SHE  HAS DONE
IS MAKE MOVIES ALL SHE WANTS TO DO IS MAKE MOVIES FOR YOU MEAN F—ERS OUT THEIR
GIVE THE GIRL A BREAK. WHY DO PEOPLE HAVE TO EMBARRASS HER WHY MAKE A 22 YEAR
OLD GIRL FELL BAD ABOUT HERSELF YOU DUM F—ERS YOU ARE UNPORFESSIOAL,
DISRESPECTFUL MEAN POEPLE GROW UP
 
MY HART GO’S OUT TO HER

Dear Friend,

Like Kanye, your caps lock is loud. I hear the fury of its imaginary audio and it burns my ears with shame. But let’s not turn against each other. Instead, let’s pop in a Hart To Hart DVD — assuming you did not send it to Lindsay already in an utterly unselfish act of love — and work together to understand this complaint that I am “unporefessional.” Does that mean my pores are dishonest? That they do not confess their sins? Because, sweet treasure, the fact is that I ooze truth. Mayhap you should come closer, into my healing embrace, and let my pores ooze their truth onto you. How drunk we’ll be with honesty! How oily with freedom! Then, and only then, can we clasp hands and try to make Lindsay Lohan a better place.

I know who hugged me,

G


E-mail #4

Subject line: Test group email 1

bla bla

Dear Friend,

Your missive is a remarkable work of symbolism — a shimmering jewel
of minimalist word-economy during this, our national recession. We
should be more like you. We should ALL test group email 1. We should
ALL forsake the ‘h’ key. And in doing so, we will speak only with our
eyes and our trobbing earts, not our fingers or our mouts. Only ten will
we be one, saving te world one abrupt communique at a time. I cerish
you.

My arms are recession-proof,

G