Letters to the Editor

Dear Hobo Pancakes,

There are no words to express the meaning of love.  However, should you ever find that you must face the wind, fear not.  The key to everything is locked away safe, and your mission, should you choose to accept, is to find that key of keys and open that fucking lock for within you will find your ego: the true; what they’ve named it since the prophecy was fulfilled.  Soon you’ll hear the eternal tune and your ears will fill with earwax and you will say to yourself, “I’m deaf,” but I will say “Fear not my child, for you have been chosen as the head of the righteous beast.”  And at that moment you will weep, because at that moment you will understand, for the heavens shall surely part and the gentle lightning doth grace your temple, will at last brand your soul courageous.

Your sister in Christ,
Karla Lozano

Dear Karla Lozano,
Sounds pretty badass.
-The Hobo Pancakes Team

Are you guys able to do italics in stuff on your website?

Max Gutmann

Dear Max,
-The Hobo Pancakes Team

How are you? My parents are from online/anywhere too!

Positive you want to sell your
online humor journal accepting submissions?

Take 3 minutes for this newspaper article I was given the other day that I hope will give you hope in your position.


I hope this is of some help.

Best Regards,
– Liliana Tseng –

Dear Liliana,
We are well, thank you for inquiring.  How ironic that both of us, with parents from online/anywhere, should find each other through the vast medium of the Internet!  We didn’t actually click on that link, because we’re pretty sure it will set our computers on fire and steal our identities, but to answer your question, well, if you’re offering to buy our online humor journal accepting submissions, that would be pretty cool, because we haven’t made any money from it yet.  Someday soon, though, right?  Thanks so much for your hopeful and helpful attitude!  It’s downright inspiring!
-The Hobo Pancakes Team

Dear Hobo Pancakes,

Two 24 ounce cans of Bud light then boom: I’m having awesome sex or masturbating, or my pen hits the notepad like nobody’s business. In this case it’s the latter of those three. Sheeeeeit. I tell you what–creativity flourishes when it’s got an alcohol crutch. Just a crutch, though. Not too much, not too little, but just right. I just wrote a letter to a national news network (yup, of the major ones). Here it is:

Hi, Jason Henry McCormick here. I think (name removed) is the next Edna Buchanan. I’m sure you guys get all kinds of emails from all kinds of people, weirdoes and stuff like that, but I’m a normal person. I really am. I study philosophy at a California State University and I write fiction and my name is all over the internet, too. Most of my stuff on the internet sucks, though. Actually, most of my stuff sucks.

Anyway, does (name removed) have a website or a blog or something? I want to be able to brag about how I knew how awesome she was before she saved the world. Well, maybe she won’t save the world. But if the world  needs saving then my money will be on her.

I’ve always loved you, (national news network). My day used to work for you but that’s a different email. Stay up.


Jason Henry McCormick.

And now I’m writing a letter to Hobo Pancakes. Sheeeeeit. I love you guys, too. My dad never worked for you and I haven’t always loved you guys, but I think I love you now. Even Oakland, too. Besides, guess what? BEER TIME! After my third tall boy it’ll at least feel like I’m having awesome sex. And if it’s with a girl then does it really matter how old she is? Age is only a number. Holler.

-Jason Henry McCormick

Dear Jason Henry McCormick,

You should love Oakland, because it is awesome.  Almost as great as your brain droppings, really.  Can you believe you’re going to have a whole weekly column all to yourself when the Hobo Pancakes community space launches later this summer?  I know, we must be insane to give you that kind of power.  But that’s just how we roll here in O-town.  Holler.

-The Hobo Pancakes Team




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