As those of you who’ve been reading this column are no doubt well aware,
I am bombarded weekly by a veritable slew of e-mails. So many, that I’ve
been forced to revert to the use of that most disingenuous (but
wonderful) of web devices: the autoresponder.
However, upon
occasion, I find it enlightening (not to mention much easier than
writing a real column) to give you — my loyal readership — a
small sampling of the incredible variety of correspondence that I
receive each and every week. Thus, without further adieu, dear friends,
we present (drum roll please) … YOU!

To the editors:
I would just like to say one thing. I really hate S.L. Goldman. Thank
you for allowing me to express my opinion.

Bruce Schmendrick
Missoula, MT

S.L.Goldman replies:
No problem, Bruce. Thank you for sharing. And by the way, I hope you get
hit by a runaway bookmobile.

To the editors:

S.L Goldman is God. I really mean it. As ridiculous as this statement
may seem at first, I believe if you truly consider it with an open mind,
you’ll eventually come to agree with me.

Melvin The Baptist
St. Petersburg, FLA

To the editors:
I’d just like to know one thing. What does S.L. Goldman have against
blacks? I mean, it’s Negro this and Negro that. Good Lord
— this man has set the civil rights movement back 20 years! What’d we
ever do to him anyhow?

Otis Bogarderay
Watts, CA

S.L. Goldman replies:
As I’ve stated many times in the past, I have nothing whatsoever against
people of the Negro persuasion. In fact, (despite the fact that I have
no great love of their music, their food or their hairstyles) I’m quite
fond of them, and find that — in most cases — they are extremely
sensitive Americans.

To the editors;
Regarding the quote which I allegedly made (“Hitler … The Second
Coming,” WND, Dec. 24, 1998) — I never said, “It’s a good thing that
people don’t think.” In fact, what I said was, “It’s a good thing that
Jews can’t dance.” Which, I’m sure you’ll agree, is quite
different. Please, tell this guy S.L. Goldman guy to get his facts
straight. I’ve taken enough of a bum rap already being misquoted —
especially by a foul-mouthed little kike like this character.

A. Hitler

To the editors:
Can we please get some more info about this S.L. Goldman cult? A few of
my friends and I are looking for something to keep us busy on these long

Squeaky, Leslie, Sandy and “Sadie Mae”
California Penal Institute For Women
Frontera, CA

To the editors:
I just got wind of an ugly rumor (“S.L Goldman Admits He’s a Hoax,” WND,
March 12, 1999) that I hope you’ll be able to clear up. In a nutshell,
it is this: S.L. Goldman, who has graced the pages of your wonderful
paper for the past seven months, doesn’t really exist! His column, and
all the outrageous response it has caused, has all been a gigantic
publicity stunt! What’s more, I’ve heard that in reality, S.L Goldman is
actually Marilyn Lois Polack! Please help. I’m really

Mu Shu Porkbelly
Flushing Toilet, NY

To the editors:
Thay! How come Thtuart Goldman ith alwayth picking on uth? After all,
we’re people too, jutht like him. Ethpethially with the way things are
going for uth lately, you’d think Mr. Goldman would have thome

Hollywood, CA

To the editors:
What’s the heck’s with this Goldman guy? I mean, the dude’s really got a
chip on his shoulder. He doesn’t spare anybody: blacks, gays, yuppies,
feminists … even Willie Nelson! The next thing you know he’ll be
taking shots at over-the-hill midgets with the faces of ugly little

Gary Coleman
Van Nuys, CA

To the editors:
OK Goldman … we’ve had it! Enough already! Have you forgotten the womb
from whence you sprang? It’s time you remembered your roots, sonny boy!
It’s time you admitted to the TRUTH that WE are the chosen people of
God. Because of our direct connection to the Great Goddess Mother Earth,
and by virtue of our innate sensitivity, intuitive natures, and of
course our menstrual cycles, we state finally and forever that WOMEN are
the true SURVIVORS of the planet! Beware Goldman! You have taken your
insidious anti-feminist ravings one step too far! Next time we catch you
in public, you’re liable to have your testicles ripped off with a
plastic fork. Be forewarned, you impertinent, patriarchal little putz!

A bunch of lesbians
Fire Island, N.Y.

Dear S.L Goldman
I have this problem. I want to have sex with every girl I see. Even the
fat, ugly ones. You know, the ones with moustaches and facial warts and
stuff. Anyhow, now that it’s possible to die from having sex, I know I
must curb these appetites. But, I don’t know if I can! All I ever think
about is sex, sex, sex! In fact, the other night I dreamed that Sally
Fields came up to me … and she was crying, “You still like me! You
really do! You really like me!” Actually, it was a rather
touching dream, but oh God, S.L., I’m scared! I don’t want to die! I
heard about your newfound celibacy (“Coitus Interruptus” WND, Oct 2,
1998) and I wondered if you could show me how to find the strength to
curb this horrible addiction. Please help me!

Wally Meatcleaver
Des Moines, Iowa

S.L. Goldman replies:
Try putting your penis in a bottle of Grey Poupon mustard every day for
a week. Better yet, every time you start to fantasize, imagine that
you’re having sex with Monica Lewinsky. That’s what did the trick for

To the editors:
I just want to send a word of thanks to S.L. Goldman for exposing this
Zen Master Rama fellow (“Goodbye Zen Man,” WND, Sept. 27, 1998). It’s
painful to watch phonies like this jerk, who I guarantee you wouldn’t
have lasted two seconds in the ’60s, raking in the bucks while those of
us new breed of shysters have to work so hard to keep our reputations
from getting sullied). A hearty thanks to Goldman for his … er,
enlightening expose.

Dr. Deprock Chopra
Samadhi, OR

Dear Mr. Goldman:
I have been reading your column for some time now, and I think you’re
incredible, wonderful, the most, and also too much. Goldman, you are a
real man … a lone survivor in a world of queers, wussies, and wimps!
Furthermore, I have decided that I want to be your Love Slave. In case
you’re wondering, let me assure you, Stuie, I am no dog. I have flaming
red hair, green eyes … great legs, and a really nice butt! I work
weekends at Sukie’s House-Of-AIDS Massage Parlour on Van Nuys Boulevard.
You can’t miss it! It’s right between the tattoo place and the bail
bonds joint. Be seein’ ya soon, sweetie pie!

Anna Lingus
Reseda, CA

To the editors:
Where did you guys find this guy S.L. Goldman? Now this is my idea of a
true American! I read him every week. So do my kids, all my wives (oops,
Freudian slip) and the rest of my people … which includes assorted
musicians, roadies, accountants, lawyers, servants, stableboys, maids,
bodyguards, etc. Anyhow, I’d like to personally invite Mr. Goldman up
here to spend a weekend with me on my ranch. He needn’t worry about
being bored. There’s plenty to occupy him here. Besides the glittering
nightlife, there’s my full-stable of Arabian horses, the museum I’m
building to house my belts, jumpsuits and the many pairs of sunglasses
personally given to me by good friend Elvis … not to mention some of
the er, off-the-strip pleasure palaces, if you catch my drift.
Naturally, Mr. Goldman (along with a bunch of my Sioux Indian brothers
bussed in here from Ogalalla, Nebraska) will the guest of honor at my
big show at the MGM Grand where I perform all of my big hits and play a
multitude of instruments to show how incredibly versatile I am.

Of course, if Mr. Goldman wants to write about me in his column, he’ll
have my full cooperation. Thanks again, fellas!

Wayne Fig-Newton
Las Vegas, Nevada

To the editors:
Haven’t you guys got hip to the fact that none of the letters S.L.
Goldman gets are real?! He writes them all himself! Goldman might think
he’s pulling the wool over your eyes, but I’m onto him!

Tracy Dick
Gotham City, N.Y.

S.L. Goldman replies:
This is a blatant lie and a malicious attempt to discredit me. I’ve
never written a single letter to myself. I have neither the time, nor
the requisite imagination to engage in such a ridiculous pastime.

To the editors:
So … S.L. Goldman thinks he’s been called every name in the book huh?
(“Analyzing The Letter Writers” WND, Nov. 6, 1998). Well, how about this
Mr. smartypants. You’re nothing but a bird-brained, shard of a
fungus-ridden, flouncing fagola-baiter. A hideous dunderwhelp spawn of a
pud-whumping grunt baby. A libidinous philanderer and no-account
rump-splitter and the son of a female tatterdemalion! How do like them
apples? Well, then take this, you truncated, reprobate donkey of a
cheesehead hillbilly skirmshanker. You piffilcated, lowlife, lousebag of
a toothless Hebrew buttox-broker! You gout-ridden, gaseous, wimp of a
ninny-nocking skank of a timorous butt-fetishist! How do ya like it so
far, boy? You want some more? OK. What if we said that you were nothing
but a scumsucking, scurillous, two-bit tinhead pantywaist? A pee-eyed
pudendum- hound and a shameless worshipper of tantarabobs yackum? A
smelly, simpering shard of bat guano with the heart of a puke-sucking
pederast? A wheyfaced crotch sniffer with the brains of a trollymogged
yazzihamper!? A chickenhearted gunzelbutt with the soul of a
lillylivered slubberdegullion?! What would you think thenMr.
Wiseguy? Huh? HUH?! So there!

Willy Safire
Washington, D.C.

To the Editors:
Xirxq, lepvsts, moutks fnitsgmidgyn. Porewm i negrat, ewats
fmottoqraben, blaskula Fkepow bojbawawa, nrtsils! Pwjoe Goldmanski,
zrgeitaw pltshammer!. Glnk bltazep, xcmer tpt. Vrats tkwu.

Ramtha, E.T, Djwal Kuhl, Father Divine,
Mel Lyman, Kathryn Khulman, Madame Blavatsky
The Lost Continent Of Atlantis

To: S.L. Goldbutt:
You are nothing but a filthy, scumsucking, lowlife, maggot-eating piece
of slime. You are the spawn of the devil! You must REPENT now, Goldbrick
— take it from one who knows. Yes, Goldstink, you must repent NOW and
ask the BABY JESUS to come into your heart, or you will forever be
trapped in the perpetual living HELL you are now in! Harken to these
words, Goldpuke you evil, smelly, stinking piece of snail guano. BE

Irving Lipschutz
The Lake Of Fire

To the editors:
I think it’s simply terrible the way all these letter writers constantly
badmouth S.L. Goldman. The man is obviously an extremely sensitive
individual, and is writing solely out of a deep desire to save humanity
from its descent into a maelstrom of evil, horrible, dreadful, demonic,
and otherwise indecent, immoral and disgustingly pathological

Richard Ramirez
Downtown LA
p.s. Hail Satan!

Dear S.L.
There’s something in my mind, if I could only think of it.

Ignatz P. Lobotomy
Camarillo, CA

WEEKLY GOLDMAN HYPE: Well, that’s it gang. Now, if you get the
urge to write me, please know ahead of time that due to my incredible
new Internet superstar-type popularity, you will only receive
autoresponders. However, they are incredibly clever
autoresponders, designed to make you imagine that you are receiving
actual real live e-mails from me!

And don’t forget kids, while my website “The Tongue”
is being renovated, you’re still more than
welcome to check out the hundreds of new additions to the Tongue
Biggest Little “Alternative” bookstore on the web (that means that you
can get stuff here that you ain’t gonna find anywhere else!) And don’t
forget — anything you’d like to see available on the Tongue Storefront
that you can’t find, just drop an e-mail to: [email protected]
(along with a check for $100).

See you bozos next week!

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