[Letter Talk] Mail Bag #59

Hi friends! In this mail bag, there’s a letter about removing a sticky problem, a postcard to a famous actor, a letter about a retail experience, a postcard with a special request and a very special bonus interview at the very end with a health professional.

Letter Talk is a short (~10 minutes) comedy podcast where a I write letters to anyone about anything, and I’d be honored to write one to you.


Dear Goo Gone,

My name is Alyssa and I’m practicing to become a goo removal specialist. I wanted to check in with you about an experience I had with your product. For context, I have several glass and plastic bottles that I want to save, because I’m incredibly cheap. I learned it from watching my family over the years. My father’s behavior said, “You don’t need to buy containers for nails and screws in your garage! You can just use jars of peanut butter!” He used up the peanut butter first. My dad also used the boxes that from checks or business cards to organize his desk drawer. When we went to my grandma’s house we barely drank out of cups, but we did drink out of the containers that spreadable cheese came in.

And I tell you all this and this is just the white side of my upbringing. I actually remember visiting relatives in the Philippines, and there was a guy: He was walking around holding a chicken and selling bets. I honestly didn’t know how it worked. Basically, whoever won the bet would win the chicken he was holding. You gave him a number and some money. He’d put the money in his pocket, and then write your name and number down on the other side of an unfolded cigarette carton. Presumably if you won he’d give you the chicken … whoever picked the right number. I don’t know where they were drawing the number from. I didn’t know what was happening. I look back on that now and I’m pretty impressed with the social fabric in the Philippines that allows a man to walk around with a chicken and a mobile gambling structure, and people can actually trust him. I can’t imagine walking around with a farm animal in downtown Sacramento, and have people give me money. Also, I would probably chicken out (lol) and not lie. This is hwat I would say to people: “Would you like to give me money, your name and a favorite number in exchange for you taking a look at this chicken, and then I’ll never see you again?” The more I think about this situation, the more I kind of want to do this, because if I was accosted by the same person who said that, I’d probably say yes. “Please give me money” is one way to try to get money, but, “Hey I’ll allow you to look at this animal I’m holding in exchange for money”? I feel like I would do it. It’s like some PT Barnum shit.

I say that now, but I remember there was a time where someone tried something vaguely similar and I didn’t budge. I was at the laundromat reading a book (and doing laundry, I don’t just hang out there … hahahah, I have friends!!), and a strange man came up to me holding the largest hunk of meat I’ve ever seen. (I am not hitting on him, I promise.) It was larger than a normal sized baby … It was as large as a full grown corgi. The man came up to me with this giant hunk of meat and said, “Hey can I sell this to you for a hundred dollars? It would really help me out.” To his credit, a hundred dollars would have been a good deal for that giant hunk of meat, as I could see from the price tag that it originally sold for $120 at the grocery store he stole it from.

I promise I’m not being judgy, I’m just an amateur detective. How often is it that someone accidentally buys $120 worth of meat, realises they made a mistake, and then in a panic, decides to take the meat to a laundromat to sell to all the opulent people who have a hundred dollars cash on them, and also hang out at a laundromat? I am literally just a person who hangs out at a laundromat. I don’t have a hundred dollars cash … ever. I’m just saying that, myself included here, anybody who is willing to take their clothes to another building and do their own laundry is unwilling to spend $100 on a large piece of meat from a man off the street. I think that’s a pretty safe assumption.

As an amateur detective, I had another clue that this meat might have been stolen, prior to coming into the laundromat he had stored the meat in his pants. And I know what you’re thinking, and YES, the pants he was wearing. Sure, this is a laundromat, so he could have folded it in with his laundry and then revealed it like it was a sleeping newborn.

Anyway, I declined his offer to sell me $120 worth of meat for $100, even though it was quite literally “a steal.” At that point, his salesman ship changed. He said, “C’mon.” And I said, “Naw, I’m good, man.” And then he tried one last sales tactic before moving on the next laundry fan in the building, his voice raised and he said, “Well, I was just trying to help YOU out!” Which is likely what I’m going to scream when I walk around downtown Sacramento holding my chicken and people decline to give me money, their name, and their favorite number. I’m just going to scream out, “Well, I was just trying to help YOU out!” I guess I just love the idea that some people’s form of altruism is stealing possible charcuterie ingredients and then brandishing them to strangers while they do chores.

So, Goo Gone, I’m not sure if you have any thoughts on his methods, but I would be delighted to know if you do, as I know you all are also sales people. I bought your Goo Gone so I could make the goo on some old jars and plastic containers go away. I wanted to reuse them, grandma style. I bought the spray bottle that had “citrus power” written on the side. Anyway, I read the instructions and it said to only put a little bit of the spray on the goo, so I put only a little bit … and waited per the instructions. I actually sprayed a bunch of other stuff, and my house smelled of the citrus Goo Gone. I went back to the first thing I sprayed, an old shampoo bottle, and it didn’t seem like the goo was really going gone. I wiped and the goo sort of just moved. On the second bottle I figured I had to try something different, so I put HELLA goo gone all around it and sort of massaged it around the bottle. Then I read the bottle to double check and realized that you’re not supposed to touch the goo gone, and you’re not supposed to smell the goo gone. Which seems super fucked up because you advertised it as being of the citrus variety, but I can’t smell it? Also, it’s called Goo Gone, but we shouldn’t touch it? The only way that would make sense is if my hands are made of Goo and I don’t want them to disappear.

Anyway, I opened all the windows and contemplated moving out of my fume-filled apartment (honestly, if I moved and left all my things behind, I would truly be devoid of the goo that was plaguing my life). When I returned to remove the goo, I couldn’t really get rid of the goo on the bottles. If anything there was more goo! Which was the opposite of the promise made in the title! And then I realized the entire substance of Goo Gone is, in itself a type of goo. I was so sad to see that I wanted goo gone, but when I used Goo Gone, I ended up with more goo. Seems pretty fucked up, if you ask me. 

And now I have this spray bottle of Goo Gone and I sort of want it gone too now. So my question is … is there a Goo Gone Gone? Obviously the Goo Gone isn’t going to get rid of my goo situation, nor is it going to remove itself, but is there a specific product that you put out that will get rid of the Goo Gone, so I can keep the spray bottle. 

Let me know your thoughts,



Dear Ben Affleck,

Do you happen to know why it seems to be easier to make a girl go gone versus making goo gone? In your expertise, do you know how to make my goo so it’s gone goo like that girl in your movie? Goo Gone don’t work for me. 🙁

– Alyssa

Dear Target,

I was at your fine establishment recently, as I had to purchase products to make some of my goo go away, which I find amusing that in order for goo to leave my house, I specifically have to leave my house. It’s almost like the goo is winning at this point. I’m waiting to someday come home and find that my landlord has transferred my lease to goo, and my dog now only answers to the goo, and I’m forced to do the goo’s bidding, as it is my new overlord now because it outsmarted me. 

But anyway, I went to Target to buy goo relief products, and a few other things, and I decided that I wanted to get myself a little treat. So for me, that means I was going to go buy a copy of the Atlantic. Since I haven’t read one in a while and sometimes when I don’t read magazines I start to believe that I don’t know anything that’s going on anymore … which is obviously demonstrated by me not knowing what Bad Boys for Life is. Not sure if the news magazines make it better, I got made fun of at work once because I found out about the song Despacito because I read about it in Time Magazine. 

I made this game time decision to get a copy of the Atlantic when I was ready to go to the check out stand. I checked the end caps of all of the registers in the Target. All I could find was Magnolia Home and various Us, People, Them, You, You People, and other tabloids which suspicious titles as if they’re trying to convince me that celebrities are part of my family, and it’s just a weekly newsletter to see what the gang is up to. I figured that there might be a more expansive section elsewhere, so I headed toward the books and music section. Not only did I find that there was no specific magazine section in the Target, nor were there copies of the latest issue of the Atlantic, BUT instead there was a larger than necessary vinyl section. For some goddamn reason I can go to Target and get a Fleetwood Mac, but I can’t find a copy of one of our nation’s longest running and most prestigious news magazines.

I ended up having to make an extra trip to the Safeway to find a copy, which to me makes no sense, but at the very least Safeway didn’t try to sell me an LP of the Beach Boys. And trust me know how fun I probably looked, just stomping into the Safeway angrily to buy only an Atlantic and then leaving. I’m surprised nobody reported me to the FBI for suspicious activity that day.

And I realize that this entire thing is an anachronism. Why am I reading news magazines? Probably the same reason that you’re listening to vinyl. Because your eyes hurt from staring at glowing hell boxes all day and all you want to do at the end of the night is read about how everything is structurally wrong with the world, and at least your eyes hurt less. I don’t know, why did I even go to the store? That’s an anachronism, too, right? I should be getting all my supplies by drone now, so I can Wall-E myself in my own home while I prepare to live my “actual” life in second life.

Anyway, I think that’s the only Target related gripe I wanted to share with you today, Target. I’m generally fine with your establishment, unless it’s the one in Columbia Heights, Washington, DC. They scream too much there. If I have to go in there ever again, I would want to coat myself in tons of goo as a protectant so nobody can scream at me or hurt me. All the Targets have been mostly fine. Now I need to keep in mind that I have to make two trips if I want a copy of  Atlantic.

Yours truly,


Dear DuPont,

Do you guys have hazmat style protection suits made out of a gelatinous goo? I’ve been looking into buying one to protect me from people who are screaming too much. If you don’t make one, can you guys at DuPont, DuPoint me in the right direction? Thanks!