Hilda's Dildas

Hi. Gretchen, it’s Steve. As you probably know from the phone calls and freeway billboards, I’m madly in love with you. I have been for a number of degrading and tortuous years. 787 days, 10 hours, and 6 minutes, actually. Yes, it’s that kind of torture—the one where you count the days and hours and minutes of your maniacal depression. Well, I’m tired of it.

I bought a voodoo doll from this crazy, one-armed lady in Bakersfield.
Either love me back or I’ll methodically torture you by proxy.

Love always,

Steve (817) 426-83–

p.s. I’ve also gone through your trash for the last 22 months, so I can leak out some pretty nasty secrets. Like your itemized purchases from Hilda’s Dildas ($365.41).

m4m. For the coffeeshop cutie on Clay St. last weekend in Pacific Heights:
Remember me? My dog bit your face.
Call me when the stitches heal (if the scarring isn’t too bad; was on the fence about you)
Marvin (925) 707-34–

w4w: Hey, this is for Rebecca.

My name is Wendy from Santa Monica. We met January 26^th, just before 12:15 pm, at the LA Planned Parenthood on Wilshire. We were both waiting for appointments with…well, whatever…you remember. Anyways, that whole day I was thinking to myself: Why do we have to deal with all this bullshit?

Then I saw you and I thought, hey, maybe we don’t.

Call me.

Wendy (310) 540-77–