Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Letter to an Asshole

Dear T-Bag,

Listen up you intellectually bankrupt, impotent, cocksucking, prick. The smothering weight of your life-long failures are pressing down on that pickled, ineffectual, tiny brain of yours causing you to become confused. I will extend one meager favor and clarify a few points for you now, since you don't seem to have the capacity to put a short string of thoughts together to gather a valid conclusion.

I am neither an "internet chick" nor am I being stalked by anyone. The circumstances of Travis and my meeting, and subsequent relationship, are of no consequence and furthermore, none of your business. I have what you never will. Travis and I have a healthy, loving relationship. Let that burn through you like acid, you fucking useless, pathetic, coward. Ruminate on the fact that your life sucks while you wear an ass-stinking groove into that couch you spend the majority of your time on.

You do not have a crystal ball nor do you have the mental fortitude to recite the alphabet without cheating. Any small amount of talent you do have is emaciated by your lack of motivation to do anything on your own steam. Much like that unused, shriveled dick hanging between your cheesy thighs. No one is responsible for your weak existence except you.

I know it must be difficult living in the lying-sack-of-shit-no-life-to-conceive-of-I'll-try-and-stifle-someone-else's skin of yours. But the person you're trying to rule, control, and crush happens to be the man that I love. And if you've EVER in your life encountered someone that won't hesitate to rip your fucking throat out and laugh into the gaping hole of what's left of your soul, that would be me.

Keep it up fuckwad. I'm not as nice as Travis.

So, as you're not getting laid by your sham of a wife, and hopefully not ruining your daughter's life by being another selfish bastard parent who thinks about nothing but themselves while sitting on their unproductive ass all day, enjoy your pathetic life in Buttfuck, Northern California. Travis will be with me, getting laid and blown and having a full, loving, life. And he will be happy. That's a word that means satisfied and content. Look it up sometime, if you know how to crack a book.

Stupid Fucker.

7 comments:

Pirate said...

What you been talking to Mrs. Pirate about me? Man that was the most pissed off I have ever heard a blog. Tell him if he isn't a cocksucker what's with the white shit on his chin.

Bitter Betty said...

Eh pirate, t'was was nuthin. I wasn't even that worked up. You should see me when I'm really pissed.

Becka said...

Remind me not to piss you off :)

Ginny said...

Hey you! Yeah, YOU!

You pathetic sack of maggoty dog vomit! Unless you have a burning desire to see just how far off your useless lump of a body I can twist that sorry sack of grapes you call testicles, I suggest you leave my friends ALONE!

How was that, Betty?

~Pissed off Internet Chick

trisha said...

This makes me wish I knew what you are talking about.

I love this post, regardless.

amy said...

yikes. i love you. but try using the word fucktard or fuckwit. i like those better. where in South Dakota do you live? I'm in Yankton. take care.

Serra said...

Don't forget asshat. Asshat is a great word to confuse asshats with.

On the subject of pissed-off blog posts, I have a two-parter I wrote just before I hunted someone down that I knew from the Net. Priceless--the hunting-down part, the post isn't nearly as nasty as it should have been.