Note from editor: The Mercury is extremely
proud of our advice columns, “What’s Your Problem? By Osama Bin Laden” and “Dear
Soiled Mattress Down By the River…” However, due to budget concerns we cannot
keep both. Therefore, Osama and Soiled Mattress will address the same question,
and we’ll let YOU decide who stays and who gets shit-canned. Send your opinion
to lovenotes@portlandmercury.com,
and may the best person (or soiled mattress) win!
Dear Soiled Mattress Down by the River and Osama
Bin Laden: I’m a bank teller near the downtown Fred Meyers, and our branch recently
installed bullet proof windows, which is key for crime prevention, but truly
hell in another area–the flirting department. Our new “professional” look kills
the sexual innuendoes and romance of transactions that used to be filled with
hot potential. I feel like the boy in the plastic bubble. Help! —
-The Kiss-and-Teller
OSAMA BIN LADEN RESPONSE
To
the Capitalist Whores that Drip Murder Like Money: Your greed spreads sorrow
and disease through the land of my people. You smear the face of your imperialist
gods–George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Andrew Jackson–across your moneys
like the good people of Islam build monuments to Almighty Allah. But soon, your
devil’s laughter will be silenced; the people of your tyrannical regime will
spill sullied tears and release terrified screams as you descend like spit into
the same pitiful graves as your murderous leaders. As Afghanistan rises like
a glorious sun, the American liquidators will shrivel into the pits of their
own decay. Allah will be appeased.
SOILED MATTRESS RESPONSE
Dear
Kiss-and-Teller: Your story is sad. Why must there always be those who impede
love? Perhaps we shall never know. But have you tried me? The soiled mattress
down by the river? I will teach you love. When you come in contact with a potential
lover, you will give her a deposit slip that reads, “Don’t ‘withdraw,’ lover.
Meet me on the soiled mattress down by the river, where we shall ‘deposit’ our
love.” After arranging this clandestine meeting, she will have no choice but
to tumble into your arms, and consummate her desires on the stained fabric of
my aromatic body. This glass may be bulletproof, but it cannot stop the smell.
The smell of love.