Here's one I got the other day. You mean this might no be for real???

Dear Kind Stranger,

I am a very sick little boy. My mother is typing this
for me, because I can't.
She is crying. Don't cry, Mommy!

Mommy is always sad, but she says it's not my fault. I
asked her if it
was God's fault, but she didn't answer, and only
started crying harder,
so I don't ask her that anymore.

The reason she is so sad is that I'm so sick. I was
born without a body.
It doesn't hurt, except when I go to sleep. The
doctors gave me an
artificial body. My body is a burlap bag filled with
leaves. The
doctors said that was the best they could do on
account of us having no
money or insurance. I would like to have a body
transplant, but we need
more money.

Mommy doesn't work because she said employers don't
hire crying people.
I said, "Don't cry, Mommy," and she hugged my burlap
body. Mommy always
gives me hugs, even though she's allergic to burlap,
and it chafes her real bad.

I hope you will help me. You can help me if you
forward this e-mail.

Dr. Johansen said if you forward this e-mail then Bill
Gates will team
up with AOL and do a survey with NASA. Then the
astronauts will collect
prayers from school children all over America and take
them up to space
so that the angels can hear them better.

Maybe one day I will be able to play baseball. Or
maybe just use my
lungs and heart, when the doctors make them.

The doctors said that every time you forward this
letter, the
astronauts can take another prayer to the angels.

Please help me. Mommy is so sad, and I want a body. I
don't want my
leaves to rot before I turn 10.

If you don't forward this e-mail, that's OK. Mommy
says you're a mean
heartless sh*thead who doesn't care about a poor
little boy with only a
head. She says that if you don't stew in the raw pit
of your own
guilt-ridden stomach, she hopes you die a long slow
horrible death so
you can burn forever in hell. What kind of goddamned
person are you
that you can't take five f*cking minutes to forward
this to all your
friends so that they can feel guilt and shame for the
rest of their
day, and then maybe help a poor, bodiless
nine-year-old boy?

Please help me. This really sucks. I try to be happy
but it's hard. I
wish I had a puppy. I wish I could hold a puppy.

Thank You.
Billy 'Smiles' Evans,
The boy with just a head.
And a burlap sack for a body.