found magazine obsessive thoughts

I am obsessed with Found Magazine and check the site daily for inspiration. To those uninitiated to the magazine, it is a collection of found letters, valentines, to do lists, photographs, angry diatribes, etc. I guess there's a bunch of us that can't get enough, because there's now a compilation book of some of classic and all new finds. I had to have it!

Today my copy of the luscious book arrived in the mail. I have been carrying it around with me like a talisman to ward off an otherwise ordinary soul sucking day. If only I was lucky enough to find a ransom note, I would certainly mail it off to Found post haste. Some gems I found today in the book:

Inside a used copy of the Communist Manifesto, someone wrote: "To my parents- May you one day understand the seeds of discontent that motivate my very will to live, and fight for the betterment of mankind. Love, Jon. 1998"

The finder notes that the book was in mint condition with a pristine spine. Apparently Jon's parents didn't get far in their philisophical discussion via books with him. I llike to imagine some earnest young man out there, smacking his forehead in frustration that his parents aren't hip to the communist vibe in his life.

Another good one: An angrily scribbled note that says IT STAYED ON THE GRILL BITCH!
I just wonder how that argument played out. Did someone get food poisoning and suspect their food didn't stay on the grill?

I do have a small collection of things to mail into found. My favorite is a picture from the mid 80's of an extremely crabby looking, elderly Indian woman in a sari grudgingly touching a blossom on a tree next to her. I can imagine the photographer pleading with her to make some sort of gesture to this blooming tree, and she thinks it's all shit. She's glaring off to the side.