To A. D.

A person I don't know - who doesn't know me.

Dear Mrs. A.D.

You are responsible for alot of things in my life - and yet you don't even know who I am. We never met, we spoke only once. Briefly.

You are a turnon, in an incredibly deep and at the same time extremely cold way. You something of a legend not only with me but with my friends. You and I are only two real punk rockers left in the world, ever since Henry Rollins sold himself the fuck out.

If you ever considered joining a hacking group - you might want to think about the Superfriends. I heard they could use a good database person. The work is good, the pay is zero - they don't rob banks or steal people's credit cards.

But if there happened to be, oh - say maybe a virtual environment you liked to hang out in - where the company that was controlling it quietly decided to try to steal everyone's content? They would be the first group of people to get them to open it. I know. I know. The fourth amendment thing. Boring.

P.S. Husker Du was a great band.