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 Mischa Barton doesn’t soon leave the house in a Value Village tee!” — 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: (no subject)

hi…
i been working at my job for almost 3 years…. should i start to look for another job

right back

[name redacted]

Dear Friend,

Aha! A dilemma! Nothing makes me happier than picking up the puzzle fragments of a broken soul and putting them together, creating a brand-new abstract picture of Abiding Joy holding a martini. And a puppy.

Start by connecting your precious edge pieces. Do you enjoy your work, or do you cry? Do your bosses greet you with flowers and weep with joy that you flavor their day with your soft hair’s soothing salt-and-pepper tang, or does the light in the bathroom make all your pores look ten-feet deep and your skin seem jaundiced and dry? These are important questions to ask yourself, preferably while a loved one is applying gentle hug-like pressure to your hand.

Next, begin assembling the warm, gooey center of your emotional jigsaw: Have you recently feared that you poisoned your chauvinistic boss by swapping rat poison for his usual artificial sweetener, then discovered after you took him to the morgue that he was NOT dead, forcing you to kidnap him and tie him up while you run the company in his place?

Finally, look at the resulting photo: Is it of a smile sitting on a rainbow, eating Oreos while it rains wigs? If not, then try The Notebook. It’s where I find my answers when I’m in a work pickle.

Good luck, brave soul! Fight with the strength of a thousand Olympians in a sit-up contest.

Wax on,

G


E-mail #2

Subject line: courtney its me [name redacted]

i l;ike you for who you are i need to here your side of everything please call me at [number redacted]… i really want to get a hold of you mi allways liked you nomatter what the f**k people think … i really want to see you not like a fan but like a brother I really cared a bout kurt and i grew up with him all i want to do is talk to you for ! min and if it dont jive i will never bother you again

Dear Friend,

Oh, it jive, tender arm-spreader. It jive. Trust me, if she’s conscious, Courtney just got goosebumps. I know I
did — you’d need an off-road vehicle to navigate the uneven terrain of
these arms. For so long I roamed this thankless globe worried I was alone in my quest to squeeze the hate out of its people, one torrid embrace at a time. But now? This love-wolf runs in a pack, and tonight, we hunt — if only in our dreams.

Letting the bed-bugs nibble because they need affection too,

G


E-mail #3

Subject line: (no subject)

IM SICK AND TIRED OIF SEEING ANGIE AND BRAD !!!!!!! THERE ARE CERTAINLY OTHERS THAT ARE LIVING CHRISTIAN LIVES THAT YOU COULD BE WRITING ABOUT AND PHOTOGRAPHING

—A CONCERNED WRITER

Dear Friend,

What a volcano of feeling! And its lava reeks of truth. They are so many Christian lives — there’s Christian Slater, Christian Siriano, Kristian Alfonso (she was so marvelous on Days of our Lives when she was suspended in a cage over a vat of acid!)… Come to think of it, I owe Christian Bale a bundt cake. Ergo, Concerned Writer, let my phantom thumb rub the worry lines from your countenance before it cracks two eggs over a mountain of purest flour. There WILL be pictures.

Beating until smooth,

G


E-mail #4

Subject line: from [name redacted] — pakistan

Hello Barton,

As i heard that you are in hospital. God may give you good health and keep you in good health
and happy all time. My many best wishes for you and good give you good health.

Ok Barton have a nice day and take care.

yours sincerely.

Dear Friend,

Yours is the soul of an angel, coughing as it fights the infections flu
of global negativity. May I be your Zicam? Are you a lozenge person? Do
you prefer oral mist? I hear marvelous things about the nasal swabs;
just press me to your nostril and let the healing begin.

Boosting you,

Vitamin G

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