Want to tell someone off?

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I'm feeling firey tonight. Want to join me in telling off some people? (I'm also a wimp so the dashes are more or less fill-in-the blanks.) Here's a few of my contributions: _____________________________________________________________________ Dear ----,

Do you remember your own name? I doubt you'll be able to figure out this letter is written to you because you might actually have to use your last brain cell to comprehend something. What a disappointment. _____________________________________________________________________ Dear ----,

So, how exactly was it to loose your virginity to a large, burly black man? Oh, I'm sorry.. your wig was probably on too tight to remember it. _____________________________________________________________________ Dear -------,

Will you please quit sleeping with the entire state? Thanks. _____________________________________________________________________

I feel better now.

-- Angela (fleegle@gdi.net), February 24, 2000



uh hum ok.. Dear -----, aw hell, who am i kidding? i have that damn pregnant glow going on.. i can't even fake mad right now...and so damn horny.. gez... so um yeah.. GR and stuff. OH wait!...

Dear Fat,

Stop hanging onto my ass and my gut like a maggot to week old roadkill.

Dear Cookies,

Stop calling me in the middle of the night to come and stare at you only to devour you like there is no tomorrow. (You and Fat are in cohoots aren't you?!)

Dear Acne,

GET OFF MY BACK! (and face and neck and chest...)

Dear Girl Scouts,

Stay outta my face beiotch! I will buy those damn cookies when i am damn well ready too. (Now gimme four boxes of the peanut butter patties and 5 of the thin mints.. I SAID NOW!)

-- BIG 'OL BOB (christey@bellsouth.net), February 24, 2000.

Dear ____, You are a shitty co-worker. I may fire you soon.

Dear Mullet, Thank you for making me laugh. Your incredible mulletude and plumage have infinite humor capacity..

Dear ____, Thank you for being a midget prick. I like laughing at your bald spot. I would kill you if I could bend over that far.

Dear ____, Thank you for being the most ignorant human on the planet. I upgraded your monitor to 64 Milli-hertz.

Dear Road Rage, Get of my mother fucking ass. If you get too close to my pretty little car one more time I'll give you a lug wrench catheter. Nimrod bastard.

Dear Clutch, Thank you for falling apart 10 days after I bought the car. If you weren't a procrastinating son of a bitch you would have broke before I bought you.

Dear Modemers, Do you also find it uncanny that 95% of you aren't worth the shit you flush? Hehe. Neat huh?

Dear cats, Quit shitting on everything.

-- InZanE (mzkelley@gdi.net), February 24, 2000.

Dear Casey, I know we don't get along to well. Hell, I basically hate you, but the fact that our boyfriends are best friends is what makes me have to be around you. I know I teased John about his big belly yesterday. In fact, we tease him about it quite often. I'm not the only one. It's all in fun though, and he knows that damn well. So when you started to go off on me yesterday because I made a joke, well, you can probably understand I wasn't in the best of spirits. But because I am a decent human being (unlike you) and didn't want to ruin my boyfriend's birthday, I kept my mouth shut. Lucky for you, your boyfriend clamped his hand over your mouth before you could say anything. Well, now's my chance to let you know what I think of you... a) You're a fat assed bitch. You wore shorts that were too tight today and your butt cheeks were hanging out the bottom of them. I hate that. Plus, the cellulite on your thighs was jiggling and that makes me nauseous. b) You're a STRIPPER. Stop thinking your so high and mighty. You take your clothes off for money. Some girls I thikn actually SHOULD be strippers, but who the hell wants to see YOU naked?? I may not make as much money as you, but I've got a REAL job. Something MY boyfriend can tell his mother. Your boyfriend has to lie to his mother about what you do. That's pathetic. c) Playing "sexy and coy" in the middle of a theme park is just childish. Stop trying to be sexy when we're out in public. Save it for work. You make the people around you sick. And stop sticking your tongue down John's throat in public also. That's so junior high. d - z) I'm leaving this one open for all the things I will find wrong with you in the future. I'm sure I haven't found all your faults just yet, you skanky, slutty whore.


-- Katrina Marie (katrinamarie@juno.com), February 27, 2000.

I wanted to add a few more while I had the nerve:

Dear Punk Assholes that live in the building adjacent to us:

Thanks for waking up the entire neighborhood with your horn while i couldn't get my car into gear. I almost wish that you would have taken up Mike's offer to bash your head in. Oh well, there's always next time. _____________________________________________________________________

Dear Assholes that live below us:

So, I bet you thought when i left the house the other night to go to Target that no one was home upstairs so you felt the need to blast your stereo. Well guess what? Mike was still home, and I hope you enjoyed the pounding on the floor. You know, your stereo does not need to SHAKE our pictures off of the wall. I really hope that the office decides to greet YOU with an eviction notice.

-- Angela (fleegle@cfl.rr.com), February 27, 2000.

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