Boxhead. A man among midgets. The legend of our lifetime. The man everyone wants to know and be seen with.
Indeed, it seems even resident Xenoxnews.com rightwing numbskull Ricardovitz is trying to meet him...
Dear Mr Boxhead,
Some 'ol boy be jibber-jabber'n wid me down at thar Hornsby Inn, Boxyboy. Be tattl'n on Maxy Gross thar. Tell'n me all 'bout his nefarious goins on. Told 'em I tain't intarested. Well, I done did it! Amidst all that thar stoogy jibber-jabber'n I raised my mug 'o Melbourne Lite 'n yelp "CHEERS TAR BOXBOY". Now, 'ol jibber-jabber he dern't no ya. I tell 'm all 'bout ya. He wanna meet ha, Boxboy. Yessiree. He dern't even give no nevermind 'bout ya havin a neck-noose 'n a Shelia-ring. What ya say, Boxboy - ya wanna be a internationalle man 'o mystery?
Yer southern-buddy, Ricky!!!
Love,
Ricardovitz
Dear Ricky,
What the hell, if you are at the Hornsby Inn are you saying that you are in the mighty land of Oz? How the hell did immigration let you in! You are after all, a paedophile obsessed, red necked, sista-fucking fool. And certainly not the type of person we would want in our lovely fair land.
But seeing your here, sure, why don't we meet up. Head to the Saloon Bar at the Seaview Ballroom in StKilda this Saturday night at 8pm. I will be the guy up the back with a beer in my hand, a hot pilipino lass on me knee, and a box on my head. Remember, you tight arsed yank cunt, it'll be your shout, so you better come loaded.
Yours sincerely,
Boxhead
