Dear Murray

Dear Murray

i have a problem with a stalker. he’s been stalking me for 2 months now but then he stopped all of the sudden. it really bothers me. do you think i am too fat?

-cindy

You know the thing about stalkers? You never feel lonely when you got a stalker. You ain’t never sitting around thinking “Oh god, I’m so very bored at this moment,” ’cause all you have to do is look outside and there’s your entertainment. Murray ain’t never gonna stalk anybody, ’cause I’m too damned unmotivated. If you want me to stalk you, you’re gonna have to give me an arranged time, and you can drive by and I’ll stalk you. HEY HEY I’M STALKING YOU NOW! OK ARE WE DONE STALKING YET? OK BYEBYE! SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!

You think after two months he hasn’t learned a trick or two? He won’t give up that easily. Good stalking takes lots of practice, and equipment. He just had to save up, and he’s gotten much, much better. Trust me, he’s there right now. Stop fretting, your pudgy ass can rest in peace tonight.

Now leave me the fuck alone.

Dear Murray

I’m trying to lose weight, and I need a good weight loss method. Any suggestions?

-b

Goddamn. You know you’re in LA when you try to give a homeless man a sammich and he asks you “how many carbs are in that?” My grandmother weighed 850 lbs. She lied on the couch all day and ate. So do the opposite of that, ok? It’s not so fucking hard, people. Go to the fair sometime and look for the guy working the duck game. That guy’s never fat! He’s always greasy and thin, looking alot like that creepy old guy in Poltergeist II walking around singing “the lord is iiiiiin his holy teeeeemple.” So follow Murray’s weight loss program closely: get yourself a giant tub, fill it with water and plastic ducks, eat nothing but nachos and funnel cakes, and stand by the tub all day picking the fucking ducks out of the tub. You’ll be well on your way to the body you want.

Now leave me the fuck alone.

Dear Murray

I’m in a band, and lately I haven’t had any time for anything. I never have enough time to sleep. I’ve been thinking of quitting the band, and I need a diplomatic way to let them know.

Carl

The truth there, buddy, is your band could really care less. You’re only in the band because you have a van and they need someone to haul their shit around. You think it was a coincidence that the same day they let you in the band, you had to help the singer move from Hollywood to Silverlake? Also, why do you think they light you that way at your shows? I hate to break it to you, but pitch blackness is not “artistic lighting”.

Now leave me the fuck alone.