In this issue of Sainted / Tainted we've only printed letters from war veterans. Theirs are a voice which is often lost in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Please take some time out of your day to visit a war veteran or something. Nah, I changed my mine. It doesn't really matter.
Tainted The Village Video store in Blue Lake Park. Me and my cousin Saul went there last Sunday to try and rent Transformers the movie. We couldn’t find it on the shelf, so we asked one of your employees if it was available. His response was “Hmm no, it’s actually out of stock right now, but if you’re such a big fan of s**t movies, here’s one you’ll probably like.” He then tossed the empty box for The Wicker Man at us and walked away laughing. What ever happened to good old fashioned customer service?
Angry In Tuscon
Tainted The person (or persons) who stole the American flag from the pole in my front yard. I was planning to publicly burn that flag in a demonstration I had planned against females in politics, but now what am I supposed to do? I guess can probably just burn the Texas flag since it looks sort of similar, but I think people are probably going to notice. Man, you people really tighten my jaws sometimes.
Sainted The guy who sold me the pills I just took. Or the screaming infant child which rode out of my living room ceiling on top of a bleeding woolly mammoth. The mammoth roared menacingly as it bore down upon me, and I remember shouting something about rats streaming from a rotted lung and starting to sink down and down and down into the couch and into the floor and into the earth. My mouth felt as if it were filled with soil. Then there was this terrible sound - a scream - and someone on the television was saying something about “Here comes the falls” and my own mother appeared before me from the mouth of the mammoth and looking into her eyes I saw only my own sick self. Fiends! They’ll not escape my grasp again; I’ll kill everything I touch! Everything...
The Colors... The Colors...
Tainted The rude ambulance driver who came to assist us after my father had collapsed in the street. You just barged right in to a conversation me and my brother were having without even so much as an “excuse me” and started ordering people around! You were shouting: “Do this, do that, prop his head up, is he on any medications, blah blah blah.” Is it really so hard to say please? You’re just lucky my brother piped up and told you dad was a diabetic, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to do your job for you. Frankly I enjoyed watching you sweat it out. “Oooh he’s in shock, he’s had a seizure, it could be heart trouble!” You should’ve seen your face! Next time maybe you’ll show a little more respect when people are talking.
A Concerned Son
Sainted The irresponsible 20-something mother who left her infant son in the car unattended while she went into the gas station to get cigarettes and candy. I thought God was cruel and vicious when I learned he had made me barren, but when I saw that little boy alone in that running car, I knew that He had opened a window for me. I’ve named the child Hunter. He is a very good and handsome little boy. He’s my little boy. I've gone far away and I will raise him and he will never know. He will never know. Well, I have to go now, I can hear him crying. Hope you enjoyed your skittles.
Tainted Me. I want to apologize to the driver I cut off on Highway 36 going north at about 10:40 on Tuesday. One of the girls I had in the passenger seat had tried to snort amphetamine off the other one’s naked back with the window open and the stuff went spraying all over the car. Some got into my eyes and I swerved. I apologize if I caused you any grief.
Have something you need to get off your chest? Try punching a pillow or small animal. If that doesn't work, you can send your letters to: "Sainted Tainted PO box 442 Maskfaceton PR 52212"