Dear Ann Landers,
y morning mail brought multiple requests for donations to worthy causes, free offers (if I buy $40 worth of junk), four catalogs offering everything from pantyhose to government sur-plus Army blankets and real estate bargains, and then I ran across this jewel of an essay. Want to share it with your readers? -Mr. R. in Des Moines

Dear Des Moines,
The piece is a hoot. If you find out who wrote it, let me know so I can give proper credit. A Pauper's Plea, or Gimme a Break Dear Sir: In response to your request that I send a check, I wish I could, but the present condition of my bank account makes it virtually impossible. My shattered financial condition is due to federal laws, state laws, county laws, city laws, corporation laws, liquor laws, mother-in- laws, in-laws and oudaws. Because of these laws I am compelled to pay a business tax, an amusement tax, a head tax, a school tax, a poll tax, a gas tax, a light tax, a cigarette tax, income tax, and-I almost said carpet tax. I also must buy a business license, car license, hunting license, truck license and dog license. I am required to contribute to every charitable, fraternal and mater-nal organization the genius of man is capable of putting together for the purpose of extracting as much money as possible from every person, liv-ing or dead, who has a mailbox and a city address. I am told that for my own safety, I am compelled to carry life insur-ance, property insurance, liability insurance, burglar insurance, tornado insurance, accident insurance, termite insurance, unemployment insur-ance, old age insurance, hurricane insurance and fire insurance. My business is so closely supervised by the government that it is no easy matter for me to figure out how much is mine and how much be-longs to Uncle Sam. I have been inspected, expected, suspected, disrespected, rejected, ex-amined, re-examined, informed, required, summoned, fined and com-manded until I have provided an inexhaustible supply of money for every known need, desire, hope and dream of humankind. And because I refuse to go out and beg, borrow or steal money to give away, I'm cussed, discussed, boycotted, talked to, talked about, lied to, lied about, held up, held down and robbed until I am plum ruined. I can tell you honesdy that, except for the miracle that happened just yesterday, I could not enclose this check. But the wolf that has become a stationary fixture at our front door just had pups. I sold them this morning and here is the money I owe you. Yours truly, Mr. Any Person, USA As one who has been lumped, bumped, jumped, stumped, pained, strained, maimed and brained by the IRS, I am able to empathize. Howeve?; I would gladly sign an I.O. U. P.D.Q., rather than live anywhere but in the U.S.A. The Stress Diet Pamela Pettier STRESS DIET BREAKFAST 1/2 grapefruit 1 slice whole-wheat bread 8 ounces skim milk LUNCH 4 ounces broiled chicken breast 1 cup steamed zucchini I Oreo cookie 1 cup herb tea MIDAFTERNOON SNACK Rest of the package of Oreo cookies 1 quart rocky road ice cream jar hot fiidge sauce DINNER loaves garlic bread Large pepperoni and mushroom pizza Pitcher of beer candy bars Entire frozen cheesecake eaten directly from the freezer Another reader sent in these diet tips: If no one sees you eat it, it has no calories. If you drink a diet soda with a candy bar, they will cancel each other out. Calories don't count if you eat with someone and you both eat the same amount. Food taken for medicinal purposes does not count. This includes toast, hot chocolate, brandy and Sara Lee chocolate cake. If you fatten up everyone around you, you'll look thinner. Snacks consumed at a movie, do not count as they are part of the en-tertainment. For example: Milk Duds, popcorn with butter, red licorice, and M&M's. Pieces of cookies contain no calories. The process of breaking causes a .calorie leakage. Late-night snacks have no calories. The refrigerator light is not strong enough for the calories to see their way into the calorie counter. Nil U.S., No M.A., NO Ph.D., but I Got Ihe J.O.H.! From time to time, readers ask me personal questions-"How did you get started writing the Ann Landers column? " or "Do you write all those columns yourself?" and "Areyou really a man?" In October 1995, I celebrated my fortieth anniversary as Ann Landers. With the exception of my recent vacation columns, which are reruns, I have written seven columns a week, 365 days a year, since October 16, 1955. Here are some direct answers to your most ofien asked questions: