Letter #4

March 16, 2006

Axl Rose
c/o Merck Mercuriadis
75 9th Ave # 2R
New York, NY 10011

Dear Axl,

I’m writing again to ask you to perform at my wedding celebration.

First the good news: we’ve secured a location for the bash! Sweeping views of Napa Valley, a pool, hot tub, and did I mention the views? The place is twenty minutes up a private road, which means we can keep out the paparazzi. There are some great balconies too; I was thinking we could put you and the band up on the top balcony for a truly a fantastic show. I’d suggest bringing along a camera crew as well; this screams MTV special.

I thought I’d fill you in a little more on our romance—heck, maybe you could even write a song about it for the party. I was in the Peace Corps in Guyana, a country most famous for the Jonestown mass suicide, and Karla was living in Seattle. By all rational accounts, our relationship (which was built on a two-week fling in the party-happy end-of-college period) should have disintegrated. But we wrote letters. And when you’re living in a remote area tucked away from civilization, largely forgotten by your friends and extremely lonely, getting thoughtful letters in the mail from a hot babe is like receiving a bar of gold. Long story short, I left Guyana early and moved to Seattle to be with her. We’ve been together ever since.

Incidentally, I’ve noticed the spat between you and Scott Weiland in the news lately. A word of advice, Axl: don’t go down to Scott Weiland’s level. He’s a drug-fiend with a mediocre voice and maybe three songs I can still remember. You’re Axl Rose, ass-kicker extraordinaire!

Hope to hear from you soon.

Best,

Matt Stewart