fan mail from a Southwestern prison
I have received the following fan letter from an inmate at Central Arizona Correctional Facility:
Click to enlarge.
The "my Dad slit my dog's throat" story was particularly harrowing, and made me really less inclined to send this person "50 to 10 just-signed photos" of myself.
I was also interested in the part of the letter in which the writer explains he has gotten my address from a Celebrity Directory. This explains the sort of generically-worded requests for signed headshots that I sometimes receive. I always get those and I'm like, what year is it, 1944? Should I mail this in care of your regiment in Normandy?
So, would you send this man signed headshots to keep and to sell in order to fund his personal hygiene regimen and continued correspondence courses?
Click to enlarge.The "my Dad slit my dog's throat" story was particularly harrowing, and made me really less inclined to send this person "50 to 10 just-signed photos" of myself.
I was also interested in the part of the letter in which the writer explains he has gotten my address from a Celebrity Directory. This explains the sort of generically-worded requests for signed headshots that I sometimes receive. I always get those and I'm like, what year is it, 1944? Should I mail this in care of your regiment in Normandy?
So, would you send this man signed headshots to keep and to sell in order to fund his personal hygiene regimen and continued correspondence courses?
posted by JenIsFamous at 7/15/2007 12:07:00 PM
3 Comments:
I keep looking for the fraud angle, but I'm not sure how he'd be able to pull it off with just signed headshots. Sure, he'd be able to perhaps reproduce your signature, but how big a deal is that?
That said, I don't see how the pictures would be of much value to him really if he doesn't intend on misusing them. You're better off sending him a pack of smokes.
Well, personally, I wouldn't mock a wretch in prison who sounds very much as if he's mildly retarded, even if his misspelled, goofball, socially inept request did creep me out.
But perhaps that's just ol' Victorian-era me, with my touch of hopelessly out-of-fashion 'there but for the grace of God go I' humility.
Did I mock him? I didn't mean to. I was actually holding back.
This reminds me of that time in the fourth grade that my Girl Scout troop leader tried to kick me out for being too sarcastic and intimidating the other girls. I had no idea what she was talking about; that was kind of the default mode in my family.
Of course, my mom set that bitch straight.
j
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