By Ray Stern
By Ray Stern
By New Times
By Amy Silverman
By Stephen Lemons
By Stephen Lemons
By Monica Alonzo
By Chris Parker
I read New Times occasionally because, mainly, I'm sick of reading the Republic's constant reminders of how I'm still not going to have a job next year (I'm a teacher with a master's degree, currently employed at Circle K). I also like the music section; that's about it.
Can you write something worthwhile that will get shit accomplished, please? Why don't you use your ability to print whatever the fuck you want and use it for good? How about, let's say, write a piece that's worth reading about how teachers are being ass-fucked by the government right now?
Just write something important, not some article that's going to get some poor psychotic, holistic Sedona resident killed by some Jacko-loving nut-job.
By the way, are you hiring?
He should have: I wonder if Billy Mays ever called on her for services?
Fattie Fatkins, Gilbert
Another fine fabulist: What Madame De Souza did is not out of the ordinary in our town of Sedona. There are many healers like the good doctor, but few have her experience or plethora of degrees.
I saw Michael Jackson in Sedona once, late at night at a restaurant that he had reserved for his private party. I didn't realize the place was closed to the general public and had gone there hoping to get some vegan fare — the best in town. I also saw Farrah there on another occasion, though she was with a man inside the place, in a secluded booth. I almost didn't recognize her; she was so skinny and apparently disease-ravaged.
I've never met De Souza, but I've heard of a healer to the stars in our midst. Jackson was a pitiful soul who probably needed all the help he could get to rid himself of the demons that made him love little boys.
Scientology cured a couple of prominent actors of homosexuality; De Souza's remedies are more plausible than L. Ron Hubbard's.
Omar Tedesco, Sedona
Deep breaths, Pasquali. Deeeep breaths: Seriously? Really? Was this an honest-to-God real story? If it was, please e-mail me so I can drive to Sedona and slit her fuckin' neck and hold her until she dies kicking and screaming.
To wish death on someone is one thing. To think that this bullshit voodoo New Age hippie shit will cure you is just ludicrous. People, we are in the 21st century now. Knock off this magic shit. It doesn't work!
And she killed a defenseless Rottweiler puppy! ASPCA will be getting my phone call as soon as I confirm this story is real.
How's Granny, Jethro?: I can attest to the healing properties of Dr. De Souza. She rubbed the blood of a French poodle on my member and now I'm hung like John Holmes (before he died, of course). Long live Dr. De Souza!
Doc, just keep performing your brand of miraculous medicine; don't listen to stupid dog lovers. "Stupid hippies," one and all. It's not a Saturday night at our house in Bev-er-ly unless we ritually sacrifice a dog or two.
Jethro Bodean, Beverly Hills, California
Hmm. Could happen: Dear Joe Rossi: So, there I was, at the car wash, minding my own business, when this woman sidles up to me and says, "You want I should make it so your car never needs a wash and wax again?"
And I think to myself, "This could be the opportunity of a lifetime."
As a reference, she hands me this article titled "Michael Jackson's Sedona Murderess Revealed," while pointing to herself and nodding.
Then she takes out some sort of rock and says to me, "Place this under your front seat, driver's side, and you'll never need to wash that car again. Also, the pressure from your weight will turn this into a 40-carat diamond within six months."
"What's the cost?" I ask, wide-eyed with wonder. Turns out, I only have to give her a couple fingernail clippings and a sliver of hair.
Dixon, via the Internet
Now you know, Todd: I thought [the story] was great satire. A laugh a minute. If it was satire . . .
I'm not so sure it wasn't true. With a nutcase like Michael, anything's possible. And I've heard of this Dr. De Souza.
Todd Rutledge, Los Angeles
A Jacko apologist vents: To all the M.J. haters: You believe Jackson touched little boys because you wanted him to touch all little boys. You project all your sick, twisted fantasies on something pure, innocent, and platonic. He surrounded himself with little boys, so he must have been fucking them; he had sleepovers with little boys, so he must have been fucking them.
You people are scandal whores. Never mind that he was never convicted of one damn thing and that many of his accusers have since recanted and admitted that they lied — no doubt being put up to it by greedy parents who were just out to bilk a money train.
Michael Jackson transformed the world, and it just drives you nuts that someone so eccentric held such an undeniable power over people, so you spew this ignorant drivel.
David Billings, New York