Dear Mel Gibson
by Raymi, 22, Toronto
i have never felt closer before to a celebrity ever in my life as i feel as close to you right now.
my first visit to los angeles found me in the back of a cruiser yelling about how french canadian i was and how all the officers were racists and skinheads and belonged to the kkk and so on and i demanded to be dealt with the minorities only, cos i felt like i was the only one who understood them. once i mentioned i was french they slammed cuffs on me and threw me in the back of the car and drove me to that police station in manhattan beach. i really wanted a cigarette, they wouldn't allow it but the one lady cop gave me a nicorette which i chewed the shit out of. then they took my prints and mugshot which i cannot WAIT to see when i get really really famous, it's pretty much the only thing that drives me you know, that one day my name will be googled and up will come the sketchiest fucking mugshot a la winona ryder in her thievery days.
anyway, i was drunk-tanked for five hours and i thought i was being filmed the whole time so of course i put a wicked show on, i think i slept for maybe 20 minutes only and they finally let me out once i sang the national anthem at the top of my lungs, i thought i did a pretty good job. anyway the one cop had a shaved head and wore little wire-rim glasses so he pretty much set off the HE IS A RACIST ASSHOLE part of my brain. thing is i wasn't even drunk, just manic. and the very next day i was hospitalized.
later i will go into detail about how i was found on someone's property anne heche styles and an army dude decked me to the ground, i mean, elbowed my neck/jaw and took me the fuck down.