Dear Anthrax Dude

Dear Dude from the band Anthrax,

I regret to inform you that you are not as famous as I’m sure you would like to be. I decided to compose this letter after having seen you on a Youtube video where you were once again sitting namelessly amongst a crowd of better-known celebrities. I apologize for my insensitivity in this matter, but your existance is really beginning to piss me off.

I must ask you one thing- what the fuck is your name? After having spotted you on numerous star-studded syndicated shows such as I Love the 80’s and the Zakk Wylde Celebrity Roast, I am disturbed to realize that I still cannot tell one person your name. Am I that completely un-observant, or do the producers of these shows triple-size the “from ‘Anthrax'” that is printed under your name in order to further push you into obscurity? Is you name so common- like Bob, or Joe- that it just glides through my brain and gets lost in the kerfuffle? I certainly wouldn’t doubt it.

I would like to point out another distressing fact- I cannot introduce you, Anthrax Dude, neither am I able to name even one song from your band. In my world, I am surrounded by music connisseurs who possess infinite musical trivia knowledge, yet not one of these Rain Man-ish people listen to Anthrax, as far as I know. Is your music so awfully hideous that it defies attention? I am afraid to find out.

Anthrax Dude, as I am unable to comment on the quality (or lack thereof) of your musical talent, I shall therefore have to comment on the things I know about you. I would love to shave or otherwise trim the horrendous beardism that is attatched to your chin. While goatees seem to be increasing popular, the only thing your frazzled whiskers seem to be doing is keeping you from getting you own Hollywood star on a sidewalk in California. While your choice in chin accessory is questionable, the fact that your head is shaven is commendable, since you sport a very nicely-shaped skull.

I realize my curiousity over your name and your band’s musical leanings could be easily enough put to rest; however, I believe that since I have not yet retained your agnomen, it is safe to presume that I am not meant to. And so, Anthrax Dude, you shall forever in my world remain that nameless dude from that musicless band who makes his living along with the other washed-up celebrities on those VH1 history shows.

Forever a Non-Fan,

Sparklebumps