[SIC!]

E-mail us: editor@exile.ru

HELTER SKOAL-TER

Editors,
Listen. I am writing this letter on behalf of Skoal. I am a good friend of his and I feel that I have the right to teach you guys several things about ethics. Skoal was extremely upset with what you’ve said. He is well aware about his English, and you should not mock him for making mistakes (he is a foriegner). He is also aware of the fact that he is an immigrant. There was absolutely no reason for you to be so cruel toward him. He only tried to explain how he felt about your articles on Russia and the Russian people. he admires Russia tremendously. You have really hurt him. I hope that you understand that. I never would encourage anyone to read your newspaper or your website. It’s garbage and you know it. Unforunately, you have something that attracks people like Skoal. He reads your articles because he cannot stand the fact that you exist. He reads them and rereads them over and over and over. It is unbearable. I hope something terrible happens to you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Pathetic fatalists.
Unlike Skoal, I visit Moscow regularly, and I know my way around it. Believe me, I can find you and hurt your paper terribly. I can actually close it down. You don’t want that to happen, do you?
Someone who cares!

MISERY

Dear Mr. Higgins,
This is Mike from Los Angeles.....
I read your report on the “No Action In Moscow Clubs”. That was funny as hell.... Thats definately not the Moscow I remember. I lived there all of 1999 and went back for a month in June 2000. We are planning to go back soon and I was curious where the action is?
We use to go to The Duck of course, Boar House, VooDoo, Bells, Galleria, Garage, and Hippopotum. I hear they have went downhill. Whats kickin now? U American? How did you end up with Exile? Like living in Moscow?
Take care!
Mike-

[SIC]SCRIBE ME

eXile,
Any chance in hell you accept US subscriptions or am I stuck wanking to the screen in Chicago? Your site moves so damn slow.. .
Magda

PEDANT-ERAST

Dear eXile-
I just read the article, “Popgun Pussies Listen Up” on your website. Unfortunately, the provocative premise was fatally undermined by the author’s gross factual error in the following passage: “But Lennon was not protected by the Secret Service. Like RFK, he was one of the gentle vampire barons, committed to walking at street level, without bodyguards, on the way from his limo to the Chelsea Hotel. It was at that point-between the limo and the Chelsea-that St. Mark waited with the other aging groupies for Count Lennon to appear.” Now, as any truly informed assasination specialist would know, Lennon was shot as he traveled from a recording studio to his apartment in the Dakota building. It was Mr. Chapman who stayed in the seedy Chelsea Hotel, thumbing his greasy copy of “Catcher in the Rye” prior to doing the deed.
Stuff like that just kills the credibility of the writer. Its like saying JFK was shot while taking the limo over to fuck Marina Oswald. Get with it, boys!
Bruce James

FELCH ME

On a recent jaunt to Moscow, I had the pleasure of reading your Food column while, coincidentally, one of the Felicita waiters was throating my horse-chod.
After I finished, “Toly” (not his real name) read Tanned-bum’s review and burst out laughing, causing my spunk to erupt out his nose like so much ranch dressing.
I asked my little fudge-weasel what he found so amusing, and he replied, “No offense, but these expat Americans don’t know authentic Italian food for shit.” He went on to desecrate one of my Armani socks to clean his face and continued, “Italians put balsamic vinegar on everything *except* salad, but this fellow probably thinks the rosemary-olive oil goop he puts on his bread came from Padua, rather than Olive Garden.”
Toly made a square with his forefingers and thumbs in a poor man’s “LT” and went on: “Moreover, I remember this stupid bitch demanding to know why we didn’t have ‘meatball grinders’ on the menu and candled bottles of Pescevino at every table.”
I was about to defend your columnist’s honor, but the phone rang and Toly soon got into a screeching catfight with someone on the other end who, remarkably enough, was apparently named Dan Higgins (obviously some *other* expat), and I took it upon myself to leave, sockless, before it got uglier.
N.B. you twats owe me the price of a pair of Armani socks, beige.
Duane Moody

SEEKING: FEMALE EXHOLES

Hi, guys!
I am reading your paper, on, like, regular basis. Year by year you keep writing ‘bout nice snappers, great tits, asses and taking a piss’es over a girlfriend’s bed - that’s nice, guys, that’s really encouraging for some bright colors in our stupid little lives. Exholes like you are flamboyant and nice, they don’t have short necks and flat heads, and their attitude to people (especially females) are always positive, unlike our grim motherfucking Russians, whose serious and smileless face is a must at all times, at work, at home and at the parties, even when they fuck some sluts they keep this concentrated eyebrows-together face. Russian sluts while being fucked by them are always the same, say in a different way, thou, but the same. They look like that bitch in Stimorol Pro-Z commercial, saying “Da nichegooo...”, after being hit by a flathead asswipe. So this two types deserve each other. Listen, guys, I am sick and tired of this zoo, although I can say you do add some joy in the same ole boring come-and-get-a-sluts-snapper thing. At least you do it with fun, and look at your smiling faces! I am happy for you, guys, really, if you manage to enjoy Russian dyevs that’s good , that brings some action to all this dull-stricken clubs. But suddenly something bright appeared to my sad mind - Exholes cannot be only MALE! I mean, there must’ve exist some form of FEMALE Exhole, wearing a smile and a nice business suit, working for something like CNN, or Arthur Andersen, or GE, or anything like that, who is going out to drink&dance on Friday and Saturday nights, who lives in the apartments located somewhere in the city center with a big waterbed and a fridge filled with American Budweiser piss. This form of life MUST exist somewhere in here! Why are you hiding it so carefully, uh, guys? I am really tired of reading about our horny teen sluts, whose hands are in constant search of a deep Exhole pocket. I want a woman in business suit wearing a smile! After all, Kevin Spacey was absolutely right on this matter /The Big Kahuna/. I am strongly encouraging you, guys to uncover the secrecy on female type of Exholes, after all, finally it is a Spring time after 7 months of fucking Russian winter and the nature is one for all Human beings, and it is starting it’s traditional Spring call for LOVE...
Thank you for the time spend on reading this,
Yours faithfully,
Dmitry Anisimov
P.S. You are welcome to publish my e-mail anisimov@usa.net for others to show up their fucking feedback opinion on Female Exholes theme. Thanks!

CROSS TRESS-ER

Hey Dolan:
Reagan wasn’t killed right. Too bad the future nuclear wasteland (NZ) doesn’t have anybody worth wacking.
Go suck down some sheep sperm pie fucko. And stick a razor up your ass and twist.
Kisses,
Tres Herndon
a big fag

CAPTAIN CAVEMAN

Dear Ass Pirates,
I see since my last letter, I notice that the average intellectual ability of your literate audience seems to have dropped (for you severely retarded, fudge-packing Russians: those people who send you ‘letters’ through that little TV with unlimited porn pics: better clarify that as well: computer.)
Anyway, the last few issues of SIC were dominated by poor English, mindless gibberish, and ‘Married With Children’ style humor.
Your letter-writing audience should be ashamed of themselves. Clearly they do not begin to approach the intellectual capabilities of Mark and Mr. Limonov...although Mr. Skoal Zafronov’s ‘letter’ made me fall out of my chair.
All the best to you guys and eXile, but try to get new fans because, other than me of course, all the ones you have are fucking morons who are clearly ass-sucking fags.
Best regards,
Captain Stolichnaya
Indianapolis

AIDS WORKER

Dear Messers Ames and Taibbi,
I realise by paying you a sychophantic but genuine compliment I may just as well unzip my Africa-motif pants, loosen my boxer shorts, take a fingerful of unsalted butter, insert it up my vegimite viaduct, then drop to my knees and turn my bronze eye skywards, as my sphincter glints in the spring sun, and wait while your manly selves wreak sweet vengeance on my barking
chocolate spider, but....
... I have thoroughly enjoyed almost every issue of the eXile in my couple of years’ tenure here. I’ve travelled all over the landmass and on long flights to Magadan or Buryatia having a copy of your paper in my oh-so-trendy Guatemalan travel bag has shortened the flight and the vodka consuption considerably. And saved me reading Dostoyevsky.
I hope you can keep up the good work, pissing off all and sundry, (especially the wanker Yanks who talk too loudly in the Boar House, have arses that are the size of Yakutia and IQ’s the size of ... uh... analogy failure, well, the size of something very small but not a penis). Keep raising a smile, and putting pederastic priapic punters in touch with nubile honeys. Thanks to you I discovered the joys of a ... ahem... certain African establishment, the meaning of the word “snapper” and the sighting of the unshaven variety in the Taxman. But you never mentioned a great little erotic show in a wee bar on Profsoyznaya where the dancers outnumber the johns.
So long then, I will hold your grubby newsprint twixt my mitts nay more.
With respect, bending over, cheeks parted, and humbly awaiting a good uphill gardening, and possibly a spit roast if the mood takes you and if you can stomach facing each other...
Ade Werker