
I doubt any of us were under the impression that Marlon Brando wasn’t a super eccentric dude, but even with that knowledge, reading his creepy, 1966 pick-up letter to a stewardess is still enough to send douche chills through the ages. Here’s the transcript, and keep in mind, in 1966, Brando still looked like the banner picture, and hadn’t yet turned into this.
When he wrote the following letter in 1966, Marlon Brando was above the Atlantic Ocean flying from New York to London. Also on that plane was the letter’s recipient: a senior air stewardess who, due to her taking care of another passenger following a sudden downturn in health mid-flight, had spent much of the journey sitting directly in front of the enigmatic actor. He was clearly enamoured by her, and handed over the note as he left the aircraft.
Dear Lady —
There is something not quite definable in your face — something lovely, not pretty in a conventionally thought of way. You have something graceful and tender and feminine (sp). You seem to be a woman who has been loved in her childhood, or else, somehow by the mystery of genetic phenomena you have been visited by the gifts of refinement, dignity and poise. Perhaps you cannot be accredited with all that.
—
Irrespective of your gothic aspects, you have passed something on in terms of your expression, mien and general comportment that is unusual and rewarding.
It’s been a pleasant if brief encounter and I wish you well and I hope we shall have occasion to cross eyes again sometime.
Best wishes
Marlon Brando
Savoy [via LettersofNote]
“Irrespective of your gothic aspects?” Yikes. He writes like an elementary school Armond White (and I’m totally picturing this girl as an 80s goth now, you’re welcome for that visual). I’m sure she was thrilled to be told, “Dear Lady, you’re certainly not pretty in any conventional sense, but I think you’re swell.”
I can’t wait until 50 years from now, when my illegitimate children will be reading Channing Tatum’s booty-call letters at the Smithsonian (the Will Smiffsonian by then, probably).
“Yo, Gurl–
I know HELLA homeez probably be tellin you this, but fa real? When you was bent over to clean up that Henny my boy K-Squawk spilt, I looked over and I wuz like DAAAYAMN, SON, THOSE TITEEZ IS LIKE [and here he appears to have drawn an explosion sound]
$tep up 2 tha $treet$
-Ya Boi, C-Tates”





Dear Sir,
As I gazed over the back of my dentist’s chair I caught you gazing down my spit bib. It’s apparent that as a child you were breast fed by many women and hunger still for a Mother’s sweet milk. Could you hand me that phone to call the police?
XOXO
Gossip Girl
Dude was 10 times the pimp I’ll ever be. My note wouldve just said “You. Me. Lavatory. Let’s f*ck.”
Might not have worked on a Mad Men era stewardess but I’ve had my share of meth-mouth head on a moving Greyhound.
Slow down, all this talk about milk titties is gettin me boned up.
I bet near the end it was more like “Kneel before Jor-El and bring me that chicken while you’re at it”
Jean Claude Van Damme would have just drawn an arrow pointing to his boner.
“If you ever want to see your children again, you’ll do exactly as I say.”
-Moose
That’s nothing, the creepy little bastard also lifted her lipstick from her purse to write “FUCK” on the side of the plane after they landed.
Andy Dick would have just started humping between the cushions and making do me faces at the wing gremlins.
A year later Jerry Lewis saw the same woman on a different flight and wrote this:
Dear Nice LAAAAADDDDDYYYY,
I like your weird face and creepy aura that maybe the magic man in the sky created with the poof and zing that I saw for a bit but I want to see again maybe some time later eventually?
Glahoyvehn,
Jerry Lewis
Wow, this is awkward… I’d heard this story referenced before and what Brando actually wanted was for the stewardess to hand his note to the peach cobbler he’d had over Greenland.
All the notes her wrote to strippers about them never being loved as children are real downers.
You trippin’, boo. C-Tates ain’t be flyin’ since he found out Soul Plane wasn’t real.
You know michelle07, we’re all pretty sick of that stereotype. Just because one or two of us have hung out on wings in the past, we’re all branded that way.
Your ignorance disgusts me.
“There is something not quite definable in your face — something lovely, not pretty in a conventionally thought of way.” Her moustache.
Your ass is glass Gremlin!
*gaunlet dropped, picked up and then thrown*
Until that note, the way most people described her was “pie-faced”.
I’d describe elle0 as Cinnabon-faced.
*breaks beer bottle*
bitch, it’s 1500 and i’m in pajama pants, drunk, and making a ferret smoke pot. you want any of this shit? cause i’m right here.
Steven Seagal wrote:
Dear Spirit Woman,
I saw you on an airplane on an unspecified day going to an unspecified location – I don’t keep track of space and time.
I wonder if you would be interested if I serenaded you with my latest musical anthem – “Queef Fart Blues”?
I shall see you again one day – but I don’t know where and when.
Dear Lady,
Do you know that if you let me crap on your chest whilst we fly over Ohio AND I punch you in the back of the head, we could do the world’s first ever Mile High Cleveland Steamer Donkey P…BRAAAAAHHHHMMM!!!
Cinnabon faced?!? Broken beer bottle?!? “I’d”?!? Aww yeah, now we’re cybering! Anyone have Chodin’s number?
You guys are crazy, chicks eat this shit up. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve picked up my local LARPing event with just such a rap.
[Tumbles from cardboard box into gutter]
Here’s an excerpt from a note I dropped to a waitress down at world famous Trout’s bar in Oildale;
When you pass, the smell of your cunt could gag a maggot. I want to bang that poo tooth right out of your face. Bring me a bag of almonds and I will know that you want to rail meth off my dick pustules.
Michelle07, it’s 1.800.656.4673
Sorry bout that, I got called into work at 4am and I’m feeling a little chippy.
I hope we shall have occasion to cross eyes again sometime.
Forrest Whitaker’s been using that line for 20 years.
Deer Lady,
I’m about to put 12 ounces of lead shot into you.
Eat you soon,
Ted Nugent
Hey lady,
What say when we hit Phoenix you come back to the hotel with me, we pick up a couple of bottles of barbecue sauce on the way, then I cover you head to toe and lick it off. Not all of it, just until I feel full, then you can hop in the shower or something while I watch the late highlights on ESPN. There’s cab fare in it for ya too. It ain’t that romantic but whaddya want, I ain’t Johnny Depp, ya know?
Best Delishes,
Kevin James
Hay yoouu,,,
come fuuk mee iv got cokee.
Charlie
Brando: The talented Gary Busey of the pre-internet times.
Johnny R, like B.A.Barracus, Seagal isn’t allowed to be conscious when travelling by air in case his unique physiological reaction to arousal results in the cabin depressurizing.
Marlon Brando pioneered the art of the backhanded compliment to boost the likelihood of scoring a handroll from a stranger under a cheap airline blanket.
How I pine for thee, golden age of air travel.
Marlon sits at a typewriter. Pecks out;
iiLooks wistfully at an airliner flying high overhead, and sighs with a heavy heart.
FilmDrunk gets the first two hits on Google for “unique physiological reaction”. Which is nice.
This is nowhere near as uncomfortable as Richard Simmons ode to nuthuggers.
Brando, O.G. terrorist, had explosions in his underwear on planes before it was main stream.
… the Whore.
… the Whore.
–older Brando, when he required two first class seats and an hourly carafe of gravy
Haiti :(
Blowjobs :)
–Sean Penn
@apba–”work”
fucking showoff
Dear Cranky Bitch,
Look, I’m sure that back in the day, the toughest part of your job was selecting which lecherous business travel you wanted to buy you drinks and bang you in the bathroom of the airport bar. But now, you fill out those polyester pants like a semi-exploded crescent roll tube, you’re irritable, and you haven’t touched up your makeup since the last overnight from Madrid. You spilled ginger ale on my lap, broke my elbow with the fucking meal cart, and delivered me the only burnt turkey club sandwich I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.
Based on these observations, I’m left to assume you need a good lay. If you’re up for it, I’ll be waiting at the gate.
David Spade
*traveler*
I was on a flight once with Joan Crawford and got the following note from her.
Hey Candy Pants,
Is your tool big enough for me? If it is, get back here before I beat you within 12 inches of your life.
Love,
Joan
Dear Lady–
Numerous times during this trans-Atlantic flight I was allowed to enjoy samplings of your TWA coffee. Perhaps, after we clear immigration, you could meet me in the men’s room by baggage carousel four so that I may sample your TWA “Tea”.
“Winking Smiley-face”,
-Marlon Brando
Dear Lady with great personality,
Are you going to finish that McRib?
Sincerely, MB
If Crapbasket doesn’t win comment of the week I’m going to have to send him a bag of almonds!
The Marlon Brando of 1966 got to get away with that shit.