Some time ago I was with a friend who was down on her luck and in an attempt to cheer her up and resolve her problem I vowed to write her a series of angry letters with a comedic undertone, posing as her of course. These letters weren't going to be sent anywhere, just to be shared between the two of us. So i finally got around to writing them and was so proud of my work that I decided to share them with whoever felt they could take time out of their 'incredibly busy' day, selfish pricks. So here they are. There are three. And remember I am very proud of them and if you don't enjoy them then you can die, or just not read my blog of the former doesn't fit into your very busy life. Jerks.
Dear Nazi’s…. I mean Gatorade
I have recently come to the conclusion that you have felt it necessary to discontinue a certain flavor of your sports drink. Seeing as how you probably discontinue dreams… I am sorry, flavors all to often you most assuredly do not know of which I am referring. But seeing as how every moment I think about you and your company I get ill I will make this quick and get to the point. The flavor you Discontinued was titled Green Apple. A heavenly flavor with the bitter fore taste and the immediate sugary sensation all relative to the most popular fruit there is, apples. I apologize for speaking down to you I just have the feeling that since you are unable to recognize and decent flavor that you may be mentally handicapped. If I am wrong I am afraid my utter disgust for you will not permit me to apologize. If I am right, however, I am afraid all I can say is, ha hahaha haha ha ha ha. So if you are going to take anything away from this letter let it be this. I hope you all are left void of your loins and develop serious and painful illnesses resulting in either death or physical deformity. That is all, burn in hell.
Sincerely, A disgruntled and dangerous consumer
Dear Ben and merely by association, Jerry,
It has come to my attention that you no longer produce the flavor Bovinity Divinity. On your website in your “flavor graveyard” section which was so blandly and obnoxiously named, probably by Jerry. I found your “crypt” in which you list your relinquished flavors and read the ‘eulogy’ for this divine flavor. It was there that you wrote and I quote “was it too sweet or were those little cows simply too cute to eat?” I must say that you both should be ashamed of yourselves for hiring whatever hack writer to compile such a horrid attempt at humor. Ben, I have always found you attractive and to be an all around wonderful person. So it is with a heavy heart that I must say you disgust me I fear that from this point forward I may get sick whenever I think of you. Jerry, I can’t say I am surprised and quite simply I expected no less from a low-life like yourself. I think that it is safe to say that I will never be purchasing another pint, quart or any measurement of you ice cream again, and under the circumstances I think you can for all intents and purposes, eat shit and die.
Thank you for hearing my complaint, a dissatisfied and now former customer
Dear Eric,
I am writing to inform you that due to your lack of sensitivity and caring towards me during my time of weakness, also known as prom season, I have called the Mexican government and informed them of your whereabouts letting them know that you are in this country illegally. They, in turn, have contacted your local citizenship authorities and INS agents will be intercepting you soon. They will then take you to the Mexican border where the US border patrol will escort you to the nearest prison where you will spend a rather large amount of time having eaten several babies in your homeland on top of 3 counts of ‘being a dick’. Just so you are aware you will be subjected to serious amounts of anal penetration by men who will be staring at you hungrily from the moment you arrive at the prison. And for the record had you done the right thing or better yet, the human thing, I very well may have rocked your wild after prom exposing you to pleasures you may never experience elsewhere in life. However since you decided to be a gigantic penis face I believe that you will walk the streets of Mexico never knowing what a real woman can do to you in bed aside from what your local array of female animals can provide you with. Have a wonderful life, and don’t forget that my vagina was probably the only human one you may have ever come into contact with. Enjoy fucking goats, burn in hell.
Most angrily and with immense hatred, the girl that would have ridden you like a baboon in heat, dick weed
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Monday, September 8, 2008
Is it sad, interesting or just plain wierd?
Late last night while admiring the rather unwelcome heat wave I found myself writing the eulogies of my loved ones. My first reaction was to check myself into a psych ward. Then i realized I don't care in the least bit if I am crazy and I am certainly not going to check myself into a nut house over something that, quite honestly, doesn't bother me in the least bit. Also knowing that it may very well bother the people around me, mainly the people I writing about in the first place, made me feel even better about what I was doing. However this doesn't mean I want any of these people to die. Leave me alone and lose their ability to speak, yes. But not death, that's reserved for people like politicians and girlfriends fathers.
But to resume my rant for the day, I became very aware of things to come and a wave of emotion, however unlikely that may seem, slapped me in the face. Much like the prom queen would if I told her she was a total sellout. Or maybe even a future starter wife/gold digger with no future of her own other than a sad pathetic existence composed of nothing more than the raising of her children. Accompanied by an almost certain divorce from the husband that isn't marry her for love. Just sex. And maybe an alibi. Maybe. If you are reading this and you are, will be or were a prom queen just consider this a warning. For further looks into your future please contact me via email which is posted somewhere on this web-page. For complaints feel free to contact my complaint center at 1-978-382-5968. And for those of you looking for the secret hidden in today's message, open your phone and translate the last 7 digits of the number I just gave you.
After that feel free to continue reading, or if you have been offended there is no pressure. I have no real feelings of regret, or anything else for that matter. So if you are just reading to feed my ego, I am full and you are free to go. For those of you that haven't been weeded out by my rigorous selection system please continue reading below.
Once I finished writing the first, which for those of you that are interested was for my father, I stooped immediately to think about what I had written. I realized by this point that what I was doing was, for lack of a better word, weird. But it told me something. Having written this and not really thinking about it gave me some insight as to how I really felt towards my father. Which up until this point I figured was mild distaste sprinkled with a dash of aggravation and resentment. Although each of the previous feelings are true and still play a part in how i feel about him, I realized something else. I had a lot of wonderful things to say about him. It is very true that upon someones death we all have regrets. So long as we know that person. Unless you were the cause you never really feel bad about someone you didn't know dying. i mean there are exceptions but you get the general idea. And if you don't then leave. I am not sure how you evaded my very precise selection process but go away, you are not worthy of my words.
Anyways. When someone dies we realize all the things we wished we had gotten to do with them while they were alive. We miss the good things and ultimately over look the bad. We revert back to a time where we never said things behind peoples back, or for some to their faces. We become purified, and for that moment think only of good things. Even though it may have a sad or regretful undertone, the things we wish we could have accomplished are all good. So in death we realize all the good in our hearts and even if it is just for that moment we experience forgiveness and love. Death may be one of the most depressing things on this planet, and I will never be one to say otherwise. But in death we realize things about ourselves that we should never forget. it could very well make us better people. We just have to go to a lot of funerals. And if need be a few wakes, but don't over do it. Bad things may happen. Too much of a good thing is bad, it can be catastrophic. Enough death in your life and we are looking at a very large flock of serial killers. And I really don't want that blood on my hands. So relax people, really, just chill out and stop trying to make me look bad. You guys are so selfish, it makes me sick.
But to resume my rant for the day, I became very aware of things to come and a wave of emotion, however unlikely that may seem, slapped me in the face. Much like the prom queen would if I told her she was a total sellout. Or maybe even a future starter wife/gold digger with no future of her own other than a sad pathetic existence composed of nothing more than the raising of her children. Accompanied by an almost certain divorce from the husband that isn't marry her for love. Just sex. And maybe an alibi. Maybe. If you are reading this and you are, will be or were a prom queen just consider this a warning. For further looks into your future please contact me via email which is posted somewhere on this web-page. For complaints feel free to contact my complaint center at 1-978-382-5968. And for those of you looking for the secret hidden in today's message, open your phone and translate the last 7 digits of the number I just gave you.
After that feel free to continue reading, or if you have been offended there is no pressure. I have no real feelings of regret, or anything else for that matter. So if you are just reading to feed my ego, I am full and you are free to go. For those of you that haven't been weeded out by my rigorous selection system please continue reading below.
Once I finished writing the first, which for those of you that are interested was for my father, I stooped immediately to think about what I had written. I realized by this point that what I was doing was, for lack of a better word, weird. But it told me something. Having written this and not really thinking about it gave me some insight as to how I really felt towards my father. Which up until this point I figured was mild distaste sprinkled with a dash of aggravation and resentment. Although each of the previous feelings are true and still play a part in how i feel about him, I realized something else. I had a lot of wonderful things to say about him. It is very true that upon someones death we all have regrets. So long as we know that person. Unless you were the cause you never really feel bad about someone you didn't know dying. i mean there are exceptions but you get the general idea. And if you don't then leave. I am not sure how you evaded my very precise selection process but go away, you are not worthy of my words.
Anyways. When someone dies we realize all the things we wished we had gotten to do with them while they were alive. We miss the good things and ultimately over look the bad. We revert back to a time where we never said things behind peoples back, or for some to their faces. We become purified, and for that moment think only of good things. Even though it may have a sad or regretful undertone, the things we wish we could have accomplished are all good. So in death we realize all the good in our hearts and even if it is just for that moment we experience forgiveness and love. Death may be one of the most depressing things on this planet, and I will never be one to say otherwise. But in death we realize things about ourselves that we should never forget. it could very well make us better people. We just have to go to a lot of funerals. And if need be a few wakes, but don't over do it. Bad things may happen. Too much of a good thing is bad, it can be catastrophic. Enough death in your life and we are looking at a very large flock of serial killers. And I really don't want that blood on my hands. So relax people, really, just chill out and stop trying to make me look bad. You guys are so selfish, it makes me sick.
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