By Mr. Woo, Elm Street Journal Financier (2001)

You no hear from Woo for one year and look what happen!  Woo warn you but you to smart to listen to Woo, are you not?  America now in shamble shack like poor man with red underwears.  You no listen to Woo about W Bush.  Woo tell you him dumb as desk but you vote for anyway.  Woo think you dumb as desk.
Oh you no tell Woo you vote for Gore.  Woo know someone vote for Gore because him get more vote.  How him get more vote and lose?  Only in America!  Bah!  Woo sick to stomach and want throw up from sickness.
You dumb!!! Admit to Woo while Woo hold testicle.  You dumb dumb dumb!
Woo now think ing moving back to Hong Kong.  That right.  Woo know them Communist now but Woo no care.  Woo rather live Red than live dumb in America with dummies like dumb dumb American dummies.

Now that off Woo chest like ugly green blouse, Woo get down to business.

This ESJ no make no more monies I hear.  Me hear it on door of death’s door.  Woo hear all dot com go under like big ship in movie with dumb pretty boy.  And Woo could not be happier.  Woo dump ESJ stock last year and now Woo even richer.  And now with Bush, it harder to be richer, but Woo will find way.  Ha ha ha, Woo always be rich and you poor.

Woo think ESJ need more picture of naked.  No more picture of naked whore boy or whore girl and dumb editor wonder why no one like now.  Woo tell Addumbs that in 1985 when he just dumb boy to put nude in and him make monies but now he don’t and him broke.  He no listen and it is the moral of story.  People just animals like dog or rooster.  Them like picture of naked.  Them get excited and drop money out of hand to use hand for pleasures and Woo pick up money. It simple!  But Addumbs no understand because him say he no more drink.  Bah!  One second me spike punch and Addumbs back off wagon like dumb dumb monkey or fish.  That would be funny, ha ha ha!  That teach that fancy boy lesson!

And Woo tell you all Swarmy no good!  Swarmy nothing but witch and should fly away on witch plane.  Woo like money and Swarmy like money but that is it there is no scandal and shut up.  Swarmy send Woo letter that say we should have dinners and we go to baseball game in San Francisco but that it.  Woo no like how Swarmy always talking about herself and interrupt Woo when Woo talk about Woo.  No like!  Women should shut up when them not pleasure man!  It is way!  Bah!  So Swarmy Woo say go away on big plane and crash in the ground and die and drop dead.  Dead harpy dead!

Now Woo son is problem again.  Not George W. Woo, who lose election to that dumb dummy Bush.  Me talk about Milo.  Swarmy try to get Milo to marry daughter, but Woo say no! No no no!  Swarmy never get into Woo family as far as Woo can throw it.  Woo rather Milo be gay boy than marry god damn Swarmy girl.  And it is a good thing I say that I rather Milo be gay because Milo be gay anyway, gay like gay Pairee.  Woo rather boy be shacked up and have sex with many American sailor or goat than marry Swarmy girl!!!!  Woo mad now, me blow top!!!!!!!  You see all exclamation point??!!!!!!! Woo hopping mad and hop right out room and down to secretary office.  Now Woo back and Woo calm like seagull or toad.  Woo still no like scheming Swarmy.  Woo boy Milo okay.  Gay can make monies like in Hong Kong boys make monies if he want to, but Woo rich so Woo boy no have to work.  Take that Swarmy!  Boy rich and your daughter never having Woo monies not ever ever ever!!!!!!!!!!  Now Woo hopping mad again!!!!!!!!

Okay, Woo back from doctor office and him give pill for calming down Woo and Woo calming down now.
People write the letter to Woo and ask:

Dear Woo, me dumb and stupid fat lazy idiot who is irresponsible and dumber yet and me want to know why Woo no make prediction for year of 2001, because me to dumb to live my life without Woo prediction, and me no listen anyways because me dumb but tell me anyways.
Signed, Mr. Stupid from Dumbville, USA.

Well Mr. Stupid, Woo no tell you predictions anymore!  Why?  Woo no make you sandwich when you just have big duck dinner!  You no eat sandwich!  This is metaphor.  Woo make you never sandwich!!  You starve in street for all Woo care, stupid!
Woo write special poem, just for you:

Roses red
Violets blue
You are stupid, you big fat dumb dummy
And Woo dance La Cucaracha on you grave when you dead, dummy!

Woo no conform to dumb-dumb English poetic standard!  Shakespeare can suck it!!

Woo go now and roll around in rich rich money.

Here’s how stupid my ghost is. And yeah, I’m sure it’s real lonely being a ghost and all, yeah, whatever, like my life is sooooo enriched sharing the company of a ghost. Well, it’s turning into winter, and I don’t know if it’s just because I have the windows shut or what but the ghost is audibly way more active during winter time. It hasn’t really bummed with me in a year or so, that time it stole my phone and left it on my door step, but that was in the summer, so I don’t know. Well, it’s you know, getting cold, so my ghost thinks it’s time to start bumping into things and making a nuisance of itself. 

That’s right, I said nuisance! You like having things fall off the walls for no reason? I don’t! It means I have to pick things up off the GROUND of all places. The ground is for bugs and babies. The floor is my least favorite man made border. Do I think the floor is beneath me? Yes I do!

Anyway, by the by, my ghost is probably trying to cheer me up, saying to itself, oh, he looks lonely, maybe I will use my ghostly wares to show him that he is not so alone after all. Yes, this sentiment would be sweet, if my ghost were not so completely incompetent. What, a little harsh? Should I just go back to calling it stupid? If I gave the ghost a quiz in Romantic Poets in pre-Victorian Britain, or the conditions leading up to the Velvet Revolution, or the identity of novelist Robin Masters on the TV series “Magnum PI”, how much red ink would I use to to mark every answer wrong and flunk that ghost back down to ghost baby school? (It’s a trick question, like could Jesus flunk a test so bad that even God could make enough red ink?)

My ghost is dumb, I tell ya! You wanna know how dumb she is?

“HOW DUMB IS SHE?”

I know what you’re saying now. “Who cares, Sean Gothman? This poor hapless sprit is reaching out to you, and you mock it, fine, whatever, it’s your apartment and you can do whatever you want, but maybe you should try a little compassion, maybe this poor ghost had a body like your once, and it thought long and hard about wether this great depression was going to be over soon, or struggled with the news that an inspiring young leader had been slain in Dallas or Memphis or Los Angeles, or saw no hope in their addiction to narcotics due to their self loathing because society told them that they were a sinful, despicable being. You ever think that this ghost was a blithe sprit sent to comfort the living and guide them through tough points in their lives. I bet you didn’t think of that, you god damned prick asshole.”

Who?! Who is sending me spirits to comfort me?! Al Sharpton? Alec Baldwin? GASP — Putin?!?! Vladamir Putin is buggin’! WIKIWIKIWIKIWIKI!! The G in KGB stands for GHOST! OH MY GOD GHOSTS!

I am convinced that YouTube has gained sentience, because a plain old dumb website has never not impeded me from not wasting time about wasting time like YouTube. When I go to the homepage, it always knows me and recommends videos that I want to watch. Not what I may want to watch, EXACTLY what I want to watch. Love and Rockets videos? Of course. Larry David clips? Yes. Drunk Judy Garland falls down stairs? HOW CAN I RESIST THAT? What used to take me hours to get to wasting time in YouTube now takes no time at all. Thanks, YouTube, for reading my mind!