Letters to the Magazine

Dear Falstaff Magazine,
Don't you people get any mail? These so called letters haven't been updated since the last century, have they? I bet you made them all up as well, didn't you? I certainly don't believe this Alexander Pope character really exists...
The Internet, Slough.
Um, yeah, you've rumbled us. Oh well, go read the blogs if you want something a bit more, um, current.
Dear Falstaff Magazine,
Was I reading the creative writing magazine or The Wangarota Bush Telegraph last issue? What was with the cover? I've been an English student for three years but have yet to have come across a kangaroo in literature.
A 3rd Year.
What about Roo in 'Winnie the Pooh'?
Dear Falstaff Magazine,
This Dr. Hunt. I've never met him. Who does he think he is? Swift? Smug bastard.
Alexander Pope.
Dear Falstaff Magazine,
So the magazine has its knockers. But that's what you should expect from non-creative garbage. The very existence of a magazine allowing the creative impulse free range in an otherwise lethargic and apathetic department is not to be sneered at. Someone the other day said to me that she thought it 'was all a bit sad'. I told her she needed to grow up and drop the school mentality that designates any kind of enthusiasm to the bin. Or I would have done if she hadn't been so good-looking.