Dear Beggar Lurking Near ATM,

What an ingenious plan you’ve conceived! You have me quite caught, good sir. I cannot say that I have no money to give, because I’ve just exited an establishment whose only purpose is the dispersal of monies. Thus I must concede either to your solicitation or to my utter indifference toward the less fortunate. Very clever. Just not crisp, whole twenty-dollar bill clever. Now, why don’t you go beg for food outside Costco?

Yours Faithfully, The Gentleman of the Site

Dear Sir or Madam,

When this world and its pleasures become dry and flavourless to my palate, my thoughts often drift to the moist womb of the sea. Oh how I love the ocean. Its salty splendour has always been a source of awe for our kind and its diverse bounty is catnip to our exploitive imagination. From our delicious entrées taken of the meaty sides of fish to the repugnant hors d’oeuvres made from the nasty eggy bits. Sea urchins are hunted for their intriguing flesh and the spines often become toothpicks for naughty vegans. The chalky coral from which we make sponge candy and the stickfish that become fishsticks in our grimy factories. When we eat out, we eat out to sea.

However, we must not forget that the sea is home to the greatest and most easily avoided dangers on the planet. Creatures roam the deep that have far more teeth than conscience, frivolous poisons, and tentacles that would create and destroy a Japanese erection. I have heard legend of an underwater leviathan more deadly than anything imaginable. It has one eye that peers above the waves and when it opens its gaping maw, the depths flash and explode. This legend, of course, came from a tribe unfamiliar with submarines like my own. I shared a dish of caviar with the village chief, and became a god for a time. Unending worship bored me, as most things inevitably do, and once again my mind slipped into the brine.

Yours Faithfully, The Gentleman of the Site