Yo, Dis is not Da Hood. You get me? See, this is an middle class fucking subdivision, in a former rural area, outside an urban area by about 20 fucking miles. So before I come over there and shove your little piece of shit car that goes boom, with it's blown out wall mart speakers straight up your ass with no lube, I highly suggest you turn that shit down while I am trying to sleep yo.
Sincerely,
The Bitch four houses down who can hear you over her husbands stoopid movie and will go all ghetto on your ass.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Are you fucking kidding me?
Dear Piece of Shit,
You have GOT to be kidding me. The holidays are hard for you now, huh? Because he's gone, you just can't get into the Christmas spirit? Fuck. You. It had been YEARS since you'd even seen him when he died ass hole. You were the last person he wanted anything to do with. He fucking hated you. Your Christmas isn't ruined because he's dead. Your life hasn't changed at all. You're still the same miserable piece of shit you've always been, thinking of no one but yourself. You contribute nothing of worth to this planet, and even less to this family. In fact, you've NEVER been a part of this family. We exist in spite of you, fucker, not because of you. The next time you feel like sharing your self-pity ridden bull shit, keep it to yourself, you inconsiderate fuck. No one cares.
Sincerely,
The bitch looking for a way to remove your DNA from hers
You have GOT to be kidding me. The holidays are hard for you now, huh? Because he's gone, you just can't get into the Christmas spirit? Fuck. You. It had been YEARS since you'd even seen him when he died ass hole. You were the last person he wanted anything to do with. He fucking hated you. Your Christmas isn't ruined because he's dead. Your life hasn't changed at all. You're still the same miserable piece of shit you've always been, thinking of no one but yourself. You contribute nothing of worth to this planet, and even less to this family. In fact, you've NEVER been a part of this family. We exist in spite of you, fucker, not because of you. The next time you feel like sharing your self-pity ridden bull shit, keep it to yourself, you inconsiderate fuck. No one cares.
Sincerely,
The bitch looking for a way to remove your DNA from hers
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Dear Road Crews
There is snow.
In fact, we live in a city that gets a relatively large amount of snow each year. Isn't it interesting how that works, evry year the same thing?
And since we live in a city that gets a lot of snow, and on this annual (i.e., happens every year) basis, I didn't think you would be surprised when this year, once again, frozen water fell from the sky. Not to mention, the weather men were actually right for a change and had been accurately predicting this for, oh, five days or so.
So you can imagine my frustration when, a full twelve hours after the end of the storm, you have yet to drive down my street with a plow.
I really don't get what the problem is.
You seem to be more than happy to invite the news crews to see your gigantic stores of rock salt, and your rows and rows of freshly serviced plows.
But see, there is the problem. You have the plows, you just don't know how to properly use the plows. Simply having the plows doesn't really help me, I need for you to actually climb into the drivers seat and bring the plow into the vicinity of my house.
Were you to do this, I could potentially get in my car and go so something, perhaps even Christmas shopping. As it is, I may have to walk over, get the FU-250, and come down to your yard full of plows and kick your ass. And then take one of those plows and go shopping.
I'm just saying.
Sincerely,
Angry Snowed-In Lady
In fact, we live in a city that gets a relatively large amount of snow each year. Isn't it interesting how that works, evry year the same thing?
And since we live in a city that gets a lot of snow, and on this annual (i.e., happens every year) basis, I didn't think you would be surprised when this year, once again, frozen water fell from the sky. Not to mention, the weather men were actually right for a change and had been accurately predicting this for, oh, five days or so.
So you can imagine my frustration when, a full twelve hours after the end of the storm, you have yet to drive down my street with a plow.
I really don't get what the problem is.
You seem to be more than happy to invite the news crews to see your gigantic stores of rock salt, and your rows and rows of freshly serviced plows.
But see, there is the problem. You have the plows, you just don't know how to properly use the plows. Simply having the plows doesn't really help me, I need for you to actually climb into the drivers seat and bring the plow into the vicinity of my house.
Were you to do this, I could potentially get in my car and go so something, perhaps even Christmas shopping. As it is, I may have to walk over, get the FU-250, and come down to your yard full of plows and kick your ass. And then take one of those plows and go shopping.
I'm just saying.
Sincerely,
Angry Snowed-In Lady
Friday, December 7, 2007
Dear Unknown Caller
Or shall I just refer to you as "Chad", since you were stupid enough to give me your name when you started your sales call. News-flash for you Chad, there really is no such monster as privacy anymore. When you call someplace, even a business with rollover phone numbers, all it takes is a quick dial of *57 to trace your blocked call and start a complaint against your company. In fact, once I told Julie at the Annoyance Call Reporting Center what you had said to me, she was more than happy to tell me the trace results, start the complaint AND connect me to the local Police Department to file a report against your company for "Obscene and/or Threatening Phone Harassment". I'm guessing with you as an employee there are many, many such complaints against your company.
Word to the wise you stupid little man, the way you treat others is exactly why you are busting your ass -- with little to no positive results, I'm sure -- and still stuck in a low-paying, futureless job. You're probably living in your parents house and still single too, right? Don't bother to answer. We both know I'm right.
Chad, I hope you have a wonderful weekend. Hang out with your friends, toss back a few drinks, and be sure to brag to them about how cool you were on the phone doing your cold-calls last Friday. Make sure you tell them how exceptionally witty you were when speaking to me. I want your call to me to be the one that stands out the most in your pitiful pontification of business skills and wit when dealing with someone whom you wrongly assume is "just a secretary" and too stupid to track you down. I want you to remember me Chad. Especially on Monday when the official complaint, naming you as the offender in question, is delivered to your company by the Sheriff's Department.
I'm guessing Monday will also be the day you file for unemployment. Again.
Happy Holidays Chad,
From the Woman who will never, ever, have your small penis in my mouth. No matter how pretty you ask.
Word to the wise you stupid little man, the way you treat others is exactly why you are busting your ass -- with little to no positive results, I'm sure -- and still stuck in a low-paying, futureless job. You're probably living in your parents house and still single too, right? Don't bother to answer. We both know I'm right.
Chad, I hope you have a wonderful weekend. Hang out with your friends, toss back a few drinks, and be sure to brag to them about how cool you were on the phone doing your cold-calls last Friday. Make sure you tell them how exceptionally witty you were when speaking to me. I want your call to me to be the one that stands out the most in your pitiful pontification of business skills and wit when dealing with someone whom you wrongly assume is "just a secretary" and too stupid to track you down. I want you to remember me Chad. Especially on Monday when the official complaint, naming you as the offender in question, is delivered to your company by the Sheriff's Department.
I'm guessing Monday will also be the day you file for unemployment. Again.
Happy Holidays Chad,
From the Woman who will never, ever, have your small penis in my mouth. No matter how pretty you ask.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Learn How To Drive That Thing
Dear Fucktard in the Escalade:
If you are going to insist on driving a gigantic truck, you need to actually learn how to drive it.
We all know the trick, when you make a left turn during rush hour you pull out to the dummy lane and wait for space. I know. I do it too. Except you know what? I actually know how to drive.
When you kinda pull into the dummy lane, with the whole ass-end of your stupid truck hanging out into oncoming traffic, you are not "sneaking" across the street. You are just really fucking pissing me off.
And you know what else? As absofuckinglutely stupid as it is to drive those big-ass SUVs, it ain't rocket surgery. On occasion, I drive the FU-350. In fact, I drove that mother fucker all the way to Florida and back. And the most amazing fucking thing? The entire 36 hours that I was on the road I did not ONCE take up three fucking lanes, you moronic piece of shit. I can even back that fucker up with a trailer on it.
So, either learn to drive your tank, or you shant be allowed to venture out of your neighborhood. I will take away your keys. And then I will use said keys to dig your eyes out of your stupid fucking head.
Asswipe.
Sincerely,
The Lady in the Normal Sized Car Who Had an Embolism in Front of Your Urban Assault Vehicle at 8 AM This Morning
If you are going to insist on driving a gigantic truck, you need to actually learn how to drive it.
We all know the trick, when you make a left turn during rush hour you pull out to the dummy lane and wait for space. I know. I do it too. Except you know what? I actually know how to drive.
When you kinda pull into the dummy lane, with the whole ass-end of your stupid truck hanging out into oncoming traffic, you are not "sneaking" across the street. You are just really fucking pissing me off.
And you know what else? As absofuckinglutely stupid as it is to drive those big-ass SUVs, it ain't rocket surgery. On occasion, I drive the FU-350. In fact, I drove that mother fucker all the way to Florida and back. And the most amazing fucking thing? The entire 36 hours that I was on the road I did not ONCE take up three fucking lanes, you moronic piece of shit. I can even back that fucker up with a trailer on it.
So, either learn to drive your tank, or you shant be allowed to venture out of your neighborhood. I will take away your keys. And then I will use said keys to dig your eyes out of your stupid fucking head.
Asswipe.
Sincerely,
The Lady in the Normal Sized Car Who Had an Embolism in Front of Your Urban Assault Vehicle at 8 AM This Morning
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Fuck you, you bigoted piece of shit.
I don't care if they're brown. I don't care if they're new. I don't give a flying fuck if they don't speak a word of English. It's your fucking job to teach them. Do it. If you don't like it, go find a new way to waste 8 hours a day that DOESN'T involve ruining lives and crushing souls. You're a fucking waste of space and time. If anyone's in danger of not being smart enough, it's you, Fuckhead. It's NOT their fault you are too fucking stupid to figure out how to teach them. It's NOT their fault they landed in your class. Quit whining like a little bitch and do.your.job. Oh, and sucks for you that your secret meeting to change the program wasn't so secret. I will crush you motherfucker. Crush. You. And your little plan. You think life sucks now, wait until I've had a little secret meeting of my own, fucker. Tenure is a beautiful, beautiful thing. A thing you don't have.
Sincerely,
The bitch on the war path headed your way
Sincerely,
The bitch on the war path headed your way
Hey Moron
That's right, I'm talking to you, the asshole that just tried to take out the side of my car.
Here's the deal pal, I was making a legal U-turn, from the turn lane, on a protected arrow. You were running a red light to turn right and didn't even slow down or check for traffic. You're the one in the wrong and for you to throw a fit when I called you on it only makes you look like an ass. You're lucky I honked because it saved you a check from your insurance company. Had I not been feeling so generous I would have let you hit me and had an awesome Holiday Season on your dime. You totally owe me for that one.
Oh and another thing, you know the guy in the semi you cut off when you were trying to give me the finger, talk on your phone, hold your cup of coffee and drive all at the same time? Yeah, well he works for me. Not only did we direct-connect each other to laugh about you shitting yourself when he blasted you with his air horn and you looked in your rearview mirror to see nothing but his grill, but I just might buy him lunch tomorrow for brightening up my day. If I can track down the woman you cut off to get away from the semi, I'll buy her lunch too.
Do the world a favor, the next time you get behind the wheel try to have your head on the outside of your ass, mmmkay?
Squeezy Hugs,
The Wrong Bitch to Mess With in Traffic
Here's the deal pal, I was making a legal U-turn, from the turn lane, on a protected arrow. You were running a red light to turn right and didn't even slow down or check for traffic. You're the one in the wrong and for you to throw a fit when I called you on it only makes you look like an ass. You're lucky I honked because it saved you a check from your insurance company. Had I not been feeling so generous I would have let you hit me and had an awesome Holiday Season on your dime. You totally owe me for that one.
Oh and another thing, you know the guy in the semi you cut off when you were trying to give me the finger, talk on your phone, hold your cup of coffee and drive all at the same time? Yeah, well he works for me. Not only did we direct-connect each other to laugh about you shitting yourself when he blasted you with his air horn and you looked in your rearview mirror to see nothing but his grill, but I just might buy him lunch tomorrow for brightening up my day. If I can track down the woman you cut off to get away from the semi, I'll buy her lunch too.
Do the world a favor, the next time you get behind the wheel try to have your head on the outside of your ass, mmmkay?
Squeezy Hugs,
The Wrong Bitch to Mess With in Traffic
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Hey, Dickhead
You know, I'm cool with the fact that I share 95% of my genetic material with a chimpanze. You know what is NOT cool? That I share even more than that with you. Seriously, dude. I think you were switched at the hospital, because you are too stupid for us to be related.
Why don't you man up, grow a pair, and stop blaming our mother for every bad decision you make?
Got drunk and crashed your car? Must have been that miserable childhood we had.
Married a crack whore? I guess Mom should have let you express your individuality more.
Lost your job? Again? If you had only gotten that pony you wanted for your tenth birthday that wouldn't have happened.
Still can't find a house and get out of Mom's basement? Man, if she had only not kept you from seeing your father. Yeah, that one. The one that beat the shit out of her and me. The one that never paid a dime of fucking child support and even though his inlaws lived ACROSS THE FUCKING STREET FROM US, visited us one time in six years. And when he showed up he was drunk. Yeah, too bad you didn't get to spend weekends and summers with that total fucking piece of shit.
But you know what? We all had miserable fucking childhoods. So what don't you man up and grow a pair, mkay?
Mom doesn't owe you shit and the next time you throw one of your entitlement tantrums I will. fucking. cut. you. Yeah, I'll give you something to cry about for real you whiny fucking pussy.
Why don't you grow the fuck up, quit leeching off your parents, and set an example for your kids. If you can't manage to do that you fucking moron, why don't you just sign the kids over to your mother and fuck the hell off?
Sincerely,
Your Loving Sister
Why don't you man up, grow a pair, and stop blaming our mother for every bad decision you make?
Got drunk and crashed your car? Must have been that miserable childhood we had.
Married a crack whore? I guess Mom should have let you express your individuality more.
Lost your job? Again? If you had only gotten that pony you wanted for your tenth birthday that wouldn't have happened.
Still can't find a house and get out of Mom's basement? Man, if she had only not kept you from seeing your father. Yeah, that one. The one that beat the shit out of her and me. The one that never paid a dime of fucking child support and even though his inlaws lived ACROSS THE FUCKING STREET FROM US, visited us one time in six years. And when he showed up he was drunk. Yeah, too bad you didn't get to spend weekends and summers with that total fucking piece of shit.
But you know what? We all had miserable fucking childhoods. So what don't you man up and grow a pair, mkay?
Mom doesn't owe you shit and the next time you throw one of your entitlement tantrums I will. fucking. cut. you. Yeah, I'll give you something to cry about for real you whiny fucking pussy.
Why don't you grow the fuck up, quit leeching off your parents, and set an example for your kids. If you can't manage to do that you fucking moron, why don't you just sign the kids over to your mother and fuck the hell off?
Sincerely,
Your Loving Sister
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