LETTERS FROM A PUTZ: RUSSELL CROWE

WHERE OUR MADCAP MAN OF THE HOUR GOES POSTAL AND GETS FRANK WITH KNUCKLEHEADS IN HIGH PLACES.
This month frank wrote to the Aussie wife-thief, RUSSELL CROWE!
Mr. Crowe,
I know with your recent success in films like Gladiator, The Insider and, more recently, Proof of Life, you must be an extremely busy man, so I’ll try to keep this brief. I’m having some marital difficulty with my wife Jolene and it seems to be directly related to an obsession she has for a certain hunky Australian actor. I was hoping maybe you could help. Jolene and I have been married for seven years and have two adorable children, Timmy, 7, and Bobby, 5. We live in a small downstairs apartment on the westside of Columbus, and survive on my modest income as a Waste Management Specialist. We’ve never had much money, but our family has always gotten by with a little love and some help from the big guy upstairs-- my friend Charlie who watches the kids once in a while. Things had always been pretty good between Jolene and I until a year ago when we rented Virtuosity, the movie you made with Denzel Washington. From that point on, Jolene started acting strange and demanded that we see every movie you’ve ever been in. At first it was small things, like she started calling me Russell when we were in bed. I was flattered because I thought she was paying me a compliment by comparing me to your rugged good looks. However, as weeks passed, her behavior became increasingly irrational. This is a little embarrassing for me to talk about, but when she desired oral pleasure she would scream, “It’s time for you to go down under, you hulking, studly wanker!” She started referring to my manhood as her “little dingo,” and the only place she would ever agree to eat at was Outback Steak House. One day, I found a stack of family photographs and, much to my dismay, discovered that Jolene had pasted Entertainment Weekly pictures of your head over my own. Last week, she started getting the kids into the act. Like you, I smoke occasionally. I woke up one morning and Timmy started lecturing me on the on the dangers of cigarettes. I thought this was merely youthful concern until I looked at my son and found that my wife had dyed his hair salt-and-pepper gray and forced him to wear wire-frame glasses-- much like your character in The Insider. She even had him in a little suit with a pillow strapped to his belly to “enhance his believability.” A second later, I shrieked in horror when little Bobby ducked in from the kitchen wearing a leather gladiator battle suit and tried to run me through with a steel trident. While running from the house I was terrified to see Charlie’s head stuck on a pole in the front lawn. I’m at my wit’s end. I’m afraid that I may have to leave Jolene. Here’s where you can help. I hear that you’re really good at stealing away men’s wives, so I was wondering if you could take mine. I won’t put up a fight or involve the paparazzi. Hell, I’ll even throw in Timmy, as I fear it’s too late for him. If you act quickly, I may still be able to save Bobby. I’ll anxiously be awaiting your reply.
Sincerely,
frank putzerelli
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