[this is satire] Dear Rocky: Your answer to my last letter sure was funny. Ha ha ha. You little Communistical heathen varmint, if I ever see you I’m going to pop your haid and then skin you and use your pelt as a floormat for my riding lawnmower. Sonny, McCordsville Dear Sonny: I would advise asking your mental health professional to adjust your medication cocktail a smidgen, dear fellow. R. ———— Dear Rocky: What’s Hector been up to lately? Sally, Indianapolis Dear Sally: As you know, Sally, Hector has long been fascinated with the lack of meaning in the public utterances of Mayor Bart Peterson. This lack or absence of meaning constitutes, to Hector, a “meaning vacuum.” Hector is working on a device which will transform this vacuum of meaning into a physical entity that could be stored in a big tank. One possible use of the vacuum, Hector claims, would be to suck jobs to Indianapolis. We shall see. R. Dear Rocky: Did you go to Vice President Dick Cheney’s speech when he was in town recently? Amber, Speedway Dear Amber: Yes, I attended as a member of the Fourth Estate. Afterwards Ikey quickly decontaminated me with Lysol so as to avoid any permanent damage to my organism from exposure to Cheney and his entourage. R. ———— Dear Dave: Yeah, I remember you. Way back when, when we both were in high school. I always thought you were a punk. And now you’re famous, and I’m fat, balding and live in a bungalow in Rocky Ripple. You were funny, but I was funny too. But fate has its favorites, I guess. Anyway, I guess I’ll go now. I just wanted to say hi, Letterman. But I know you won’t write me back anyway. Fred, Rocky Ripple Dear Fred: I think you got the wrong Mailbag, my man. R.