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Click here for WierzFeedback 1995-1997
"Thank you fellas you've cured my Wierzbowski syndrome with a large dose of humour, freedom and a lot of fuckin' morphine!! Where can I buy a smart-gun? I've asked all the firearms dealers in the country and nobody seemed to have them. Do I have to join a club or something? If only Big Wierz were here, he'd tell use what to do!!"
-- Bryan, 1/20/98
"Shall I say brilliance? No for I do not wish your heads to swell anymore from such glorious praise. But seriously, f***ing cool!!"
-- Lisa M., 1/15/98
"Hi! How are ya? I want to buy a Wierzbowski Hunters t-shirt to pay homage to my favorite semi-bald marine!"
-- Linus L., 1/10/98
"Thank you so much for the website dedicated to that paragon of humanity, that rock, our Wierzbowski. I experienced pity and fear as I scrolled your pages. I wept bitter, salt tears for a tragic hero. I bookmarked the page, of course. (And later, shamefaced, went back and corrected the spelling.)
... everyone knows Wierzbowski, the kick-ass grunt who made the ultimate sacrifice for his comrades. But how many of you knew of his other consuming passion-- poetry?
I shall never forget that May afternoon on the McGill campus when he shared his first poem with me. We sat on peach crates in the snow under a ginko tree. He turned to me, his voice quavering with emotion, and read from his spiral notebook:
Roses are red,/ Violets are blue./ I can't get my fill/ of alien goo."
-- Blanche, 1/5/98