Rump Up D'Angelo

Rip It Up, Issue 178, 1 May 1992, Page 38

Rump Up D'Angelo

At approximately 10.55 pm on Monday, March 16 Nick D'Angelo was caught breaking into mail boxes in the vicinity of Ponsonby Road. After recieving due caution he was taken to the Auckland Central Police Station where he was questioned for approximately four hours. It was at that time that he admitted to stealing mail for the puposes of blackmail. A

search of his Heme Bay ■ appartment revealed sixty seven letters hidden beneath his

mattress. Amongst them included the following, Exhibit A: Dear Lisa, So how is life in Oz? Long time no hear—whafya been up to? Why am I writing to you now after all this time? Hey, it's only been two years! Okay, so we didn't part the best of friends, but we did have something really intense and I'll never forget that. I hope you think of me and the good times we shared rather than the problems we endured. Actually it's because of one of those wild and wacky moments of love that

has spurred me to write. You

remember those lustful times when we did anything and everything? Boy,

were we crazy in those days! I'm surprised we never got caught—we did every position in every public place imaginable. Actually as I remember it we did caught once, heh heh, luckily that cop had a sense of humour!! (And liked to watch). Ah, yes, those were the days. Blame it on my youth I suppose, but then again — half of it was your idea. Well some of it I'm sure. I'm sorry if I pushed things too far, too fast. I hope I'm not being insensitive when I tell you I haven't been so demanding of my new girfriend, and we're getting on great. If only I'd been more like this when I was with you. Who knows, you might not have taken off for Sydney and we might still be together. I guess that's really why I've written. I just wanted to let you know I really am sorry for all the shit we went through, I guess we were too immature for a sexual relationship like the one we had. Maybe immatures's not the right word, maybe we just weren't ready. It's sort of like Beverly Hills 90210, sort of. Okay so I'm not half as cool and understanding as Dylan, and you're no Brenda Walsh — thank god. She is such a stuck up bitch I can't stand it. Like when the series started she was the new girl from the mid-west and all the other girls were rich stuck-up Beverly Hills snobs. Now she's

the bitch and the other girls are really nice. Everything is such a drama for her, every week she's pouting and stomping around saying "What will I do? What will I do?"

And have you noticed how Andrea Zukennann has really huge tits and yet she's such a wallflower? Yeah right, that's reality based television for you! She's almost as angst ridden as Brenda — she should have bonked Brandon when she had the chance. I hear the actress playing her is actually 30 years old. I really like that Kelly girl, I think the actress playing her has done the most with her role. She sort of reminds me of that girl in Diff rent Strokes. Sort of. You remember that show? It used to be a long running hit show too, but look what happened to the actors in that. That short guy is living the life of a recluse on a farm somewhere in Arizona, and the other black guy is on death row for shooting his cousin over a crack deal gone wrong. I saw him on an old TV movie last week. He had bit part as a delivery boy, he walked on then walked off. Can you imagine what a bummer that must be? To have your own hit TV show, seen by millions, and then poof! It's all gone. Evidently that girl went the same way. She got caught trying to hold up a drugstore and ended up doing probation working in drycleaning store. What a bummer, how low does it get? I heard she did a Playboy shoot for two grand hoping it would kick start her career but instead it just finished her off completely. That girl Shawny in Baywatch did a Playboy centrefold but it didn't seem to hurt her career. Kim Basinger's done one too. I guess you just can't pick what's going to work and what isn't. I'm still waiting to hear La Toya Jackson announce her new record deal

following her Playboy spread. ■- With all this talk of girlie magazines you're probably thinking I've gotten ? even more sleazy since when you knew me. Well I haven't, honest. I just get this information from the guys at work, they're the ones who buy the magazines. And they certainly buy alot of them. You wouldn't believe all the titles you can get here now: Killer Bazooka's Unlimited, Whiplash

Magazine, Throbbing ~... and those are just the ones at the local gas station or comer dairyl Even Craccum, the Auckland University Students newspaper, has a section called Sexbeast where they take a photo of a pretty girl and give her a score out of ten. It's no wonder the Soviet Union collapsed — the world certainly is a changin'. But I digress. I guess there's no easy way of saying what else I have to tell you. Not that I don't mean everything I've said, it's just that there's another reason for writing to you. Phew! I suppose I should just cut out this small talk and get right down to what I want to say. Yessiree, just say what has to be said.

You might want to pour yourself a gin and tonic before reading the next bit. A stiff one.

Are you settled and ready? Good. First I want you to remember all the laughs we had and the good times we shared. Alright, it sounds comey but it is true. We did some crazy things

together. Things that we'll probably never do again in our lifetimes. Like that time we got stoned and took those photographs! Okay, so I got you stoned but that was only 'cos I had to stay straight so I could focus the camera. And I wasn't half bad either. Of course with you as the model honey how could I have failed to take such good pictures?! It was a moment I'll treasure forever.

Undying love as displayed in the ultimate trust we shared, a moment just

between the two of us. The bad news is that you're now Page 12 in the February issue of Giris Next Door Magazine. I don't know how on earth it could have happened. The chemist where I got the film developed must have run off extra prints. I'm truly, truly sorry. I don't know how I'll make it up to you but I will. I know you said this might happen and I said not to worry—well you were right and I was wrong. I only wish I'd listened to you more when we were I going out, in hindsight you were always right. Maybe if I had listened to you more we might still be together. The good news is that it's taken two and a half years for the pictures to surface and I bet you've probably changed alot in appearance since then. Barry only recognised you because of your famous missing toe from our (my) motorbike accident. Even I didn't recognise you at first, until I saw the zebra skin duvet cover and the clock radio that smashed so easily when I threw it across the room. Yup, it's definitely our old flat all right. I know you must be feeling pretty enraged right now but it's not that bad. I'm sure the readership is not that big Downunder. (To be honest it's huge in the States). Giris Next Next Door is an American magazine and the chances of anyone recognising you are slim. You really haven't got much to worry about—according to them your name is Babs and you work in a San Francisco record store and love men who ride horses! Especially bareback riding amongst the Californian Redwoods! That is such a joke. I remember when

I tried to get you (ahem) on a horse — you ran a mile! Anyway I'm sure when you see the magazine you'll realise it's not such a big deal. I'm sending you a copy in the next mail so you can see what you look like and maybe change your hair colour or something. I didn't send it with this letter because I didn't want you to see it first and freak out. It's in the next mail so you should get it tommorrow. I put an explanation letter in with it in case Australian

Customs seize it or something. Anyway if you don't get it in the next few days check with them. Or the Post Office.

I hope you don't hate me for all that has happened. I hope you'll appreciate that I didn't have to write and wam you. I just thought considering all we've been through that it was only fair I did the decent thing. My love always, Richard Carey,

P.S. I know we're living in seperate countries but if you're interested I'd be happy to resume a relationship, just as friends of course; penpals I suppose you'd call it.

P.P.S. It occurred to me that I might have read this all wrong. I really knew you such a long time ago. People can change alot in two years. Maybe you like the pictures — perhaps you get a kick out of it! Did you know Australian Playboy have an office in Sydney and they pay up to SSOOO Australian for the right models? Seriously, you should think about it. This is the 90s afterall. All the guys at work thought you looked pretty tasty.