Dear Judge Keith Dean

You are a miserable piece of shit who deserves nothing less than to be tortured and murdered. You are a poor excuse for a human being. You call yourself a judge. your sludge. How fuckin dare you put a man away for life for smoking a joint while letting a murderer and cocaine addict run free. you are a prejudiced, racist, no good bastard. Don't be surprised if you wake up tied to a chair in a dark room, covered in blood, cut from head to toe. Their are many people, including me, who would love to get their hands on you. People like you are the reason this country is so corrupt and unjust. fuck you.

One day, the victims of the fucked up justice system in this country are gonna ban together and there will be riots, there will be anarchy, and together we will find you, we will find you all and there will be hell to pay. revenge is a dish best served cold. keep that in mind next time you want to serve up a hot dish of bullshit to undeserving people you stupid fuck.

-Mike

Dear Keith Dean

Wow, what a Douchebag
I guess this would not be the first time I hear of money and power over freedom and the truth. I just cant believe he can sleep at night with decision like that I would love for judge Keith Dean to be put in the opposite shoes maybe if this moron of a judge probably screwed more people like that. And in the same context I feel like this case is based on racial points I say there should be a law to protect people like that this makes me feel so much better that I am Canadian and that I am not American for the only fact our legal system here makes more sense that pathetic moron of a judge where did he learn to do decision like that a cracker jack box. All I have to say is Keith dean you are the United States of America biggest moron.

Dumb ass.

Dear Douchebag who wants to be my Myspace friend,

I am a friendly person. My friends will attest to this. I like people. I also like hanging out in large groups of people, because the chaos is fun. However, I don’t do well with total strangers, that is why, “Dixie Jo” I cannot approve you as my myspace friend. Again, let me assure you it’s nothing personal, I’m really, honestly just not even sure you exist at this point.

I did not list “Hot 20 year old with ginormous boobies and a tiny vagina” in the interests section of my profile, and you were wise to assume your application might peek my interest, BUT I’m still not going to add you as a friend because I am just that leery of strangers.

I think after "Middle school shop teacher" and "Burgular" YOU-"a Stranger" are the last person I would want to invite into my home, so please do not take my rebuff personally, I just fear you that much.

Let me also give a quit shout out to “Leonard P.”, “Carl”, “Johnny Pillow” and “Sharonda”. All four of you looked like nice people, and I think you found common interest with me in that I like television and ninjas. But that is not enough, even if “Reggie” also shares my fondness for llamas and opening mail, I’m not gonna add him because we’ve never met face to face or spoke on the phone.

Quit trying to be my myspace friend stranger, you’re a total douchebag!

Dennis

Dear Douchebag Sauer,

I think you are the biggest ass hole judge that ever put on a robe. i am not a paris hilton fan but 45 days for driving with a suspended license is overkill.
You need your ass kicked. If i ever come to the land of fruits and nuts i will definitely look you up and kick your ass into the pacific ocean where you belong. Next time you climb your high and mighty bench I hope you develop a little less gloryseeking and develop a little more class.

-John Paul

Dear Douchebags at AOL,

I would like to express my heartfelt thanks and gratitude to the product development asswipes at AOL that felt the need to ‘upgrade’ your stellar product to an even higher level of suckiness as you recently did with your email program. With the latest AOL email upgrade your have truly managed to outdo yourselves.
Lots of cute graphics (awwww), a new layout (oooooo), lots of ads popping up that you can’t stop(fuuuucckkk), the difficulty in actually sending an email to more than 10 people(bastards), the constant error messages that I have dealt with since the upgrade (sons of a bitches) and oh yeah, the tremendous amount of time I spend waiting for the program to actually load so I can FUCKING SEND AN EMAIL (can you say lock and load?)….I totally love it,you AOHELL Douchebags.

Oh and least I forget, I truly appreciate your customer service system that shows just how much you want to hear from your paying customers. The whole 255 characters allowed in an email complaint really allowed me to express the extent of my unhappiness with your product. But then again, I would imagine that the douche bags you hire to work at your company are incapable of reading much anyway.

So to all the Douchebags at AOL, and you know who you are, thanks so much for your new and improved piece of shit product.

Much love to you all XXXOOO

Lynda

TO THE DOUCHEBAG FROM THE LOWER 48

Hey douchebag who showed up to work at the wilderness lodge in Alaska where I have worked for a year...It is a shame your parents did not teach you about respecting other people and their stuff you thieving used massengill douche bottle. It's a real shame (but not for me) that you ignored and didn't get the relationship I have with the owners of said lodge, cause remember the cost of that ticket you paid to get to Alaska? Sooner than you think, you will be winging your way back to the lower 48 where you belong, at your expense, hopefully before there is any damage to a guest’s enjoyment of their vacation..you know the vacation you showed total disdain for because people pay so much for it and who would want to come here anyway? The one that will pay for your salary during your short stay with us? And why do the owners listen to me, BECAUSE DOUCHEBOY, they respect me and trust me and know I have the lodge’s interest at heart.

Douchebags like you are an insult to everyone who loves the place where I work and Alaska. Douchebags like you should be stopped at the border and taken to Gitmo as an affront to Americans everywhere. I would be more than happy to apply the torture myself. You are the type of American other countries can’t abide, including our own.

You won’t be here long, just long enough to show everyone what a true douche looks and acts like. And yes, douche, I DID lock up my food because you were helping yourself to it repeatedly - NOT to give other staffers additional room for their stuff as I had only taken up my share of cabinet space. And yes, summer’s eve replacement, I did an inventory of my frozen food in front of you so that you clearly knew that I knew what I had and will be checking it when I get back. And NO douche, you can’t use my laptop, my truck or anything else that belongs to me.

Much Love

Lynda

PS…remember your douchy ways at the Hostel? I will be letting the owner know when you are fired and voila the place will be magically full. No room at this inn OR any hostel between here and Anchorage. Gee, guess douche contents flow uphill. Ain’t Karma a bitch?

Dear Criminal Douchebag,

One thousand apologies for upsetting you the other day with my harsh words and stoic demeanor. I understand you’re a misunderstood inmate who doesn’t deserve the life sentence you have been given and the only way you have of expressing yourself is to tell me to fuck my mother and threaten my life when I’m just trying to do my job. I know you’re only 25 years old and you only have about 50 years to think about what you did and how you have wasted your life but I must say I’m not going to lose any sleep over you. As a matter of fact, what’s your name again? Oh yeah, I remember, “Douchebag!”

Regards,
Jimmy

Dear People,

There comes a point in everyone's life that makes them say "God Damn...are people THAT stupid?" Usually at these crossroads in humanity, the answer is a "yes."

This is my thoughts on the population out there that believes global warming is not happening. When I did a Google search on Global Warming, it found 54,200,000 hits. Paris Hilton only got 26,400,000 hits, and ferrets were a distant 3rd with 2,690,000 hits. Don't worry little buddies, when you start becoming famous for being nothing but a slut, you will get more Google hits.....anyway, we are getting off track now.

Global Warming is a SCIENTIFIC FACT. The reason SCIENTIFIC FACT is in capitals is because I really want to drive home that Global Warming is a SCIENTIFIC FACT. Facts are a funny thing really. According to Websters Dictionary, a fact is:

1. A piece of information about circumstances that exist or events that have occurred
2. A statement or assertion of verified information about something that is the case or has happened

So as you can see, you can't really have an opinion about Global Warming since it is FACT. Sorry George Bush, Greg Hill (I do listen to your morning show everyday and love it, but I must disagree with you on this subject) and the American Association of Petroleum Geologists. (The AAPG is the only major professional organization in the natural sciences that formally rejects the likelihood of human influence on recent climate, according to Wikipedia.)

So to make those out there that still believe Global Warming is not happening, I have come up with a list of other facts that you can disbelieve, just so Global Warming is not your only one:

1. Gravity: Trust me, you are not really sitting in your chair right now, it is just a mirror trick made up by Penn and Teller.
2. The Internet: Even though you think you are reading this, it is still up for debate whether you are or not.
3. Photosynthesis: All that air you breath just goes to the local processing plant. Those pesky trees are just there to make you rake the leaves in the fall.
4. Smog: You are probably just still hung over...or baked.

Love,
Barry Clegg
cleggthis.blogspot.com

Dear Douchebag Manager of the Douchebag Place I work,

I couldn't be more unhappy with this job and you. You are worthless and I am tired of the work that trickles down to me that should be done at your desk. It infuriates me to no end that you get paid at least 4 times as much as I do to come in whenever you want to, which is never even remotely close to the 40 hours a week that you are paid salary for. Also, it brings me the utmost joy when you bring your children in with you.

Apparently, your immense salary (that, as I have already said, exceeds mine by more than 4 times) is not large enough for you to be able to afford a babysitter. I especially enjoy it when you bring your one year old in with you, even though your wife is a stay at home mother, and then, proceed to change her soiled diaper in the office next to me and leave the smelly diaper in the trash can beside the front office.

I also would like to thank you for hiring the special group of derelicts I have the honor of calling my coworkers. I use that term loosely because the majority of them also aren't here for their scheduled shift. So, once again I'd like to thank you for the wonderful experience this job has brought me and for contributing to my growing dislike of people in general.

Love,
Anonymous

Dear Boy Whom I Assist Much Too Often,

It is very rude of you to expect me to tell you everything that our mutual friend tells me. I mean, I understand the whole "is she talking about me?" approach to discovering her love for you, but it's really becoming a bit too much for me. I'd like to have a conversation that wasn't pointedly concerning her relationship with you. We girls have other things to discuss, like nail polish and cute boys and chick flicks.

Additionally, you should be grateful that I do any sort of undercover work for you at all, considering that three weeks ago you informed me that you liked my personality but that I wasn't hot enough to date, or something like that. I really should have backhanded you, but I didn't, because I am a rather generous soul.

Considering this, you should be glad that I tell you what color her shirt will be tomorrow, let alone whether or not she returns your affections. In the future, you might want to consider a well-placed "thank you" or maybe baking me some cookies. I'm especially fond of snickerdoodles.

Love,
Gabs

Dear Creators of the 405 Freeway of Douchebaggery,

I want the 405 to be engulfed in flames. If you live in Los Angeles, you know what I mean.

Seriously, why can't it just die?

That is all.

Z.

Dear Motor Vehicle Administration,

You get the douchebag award of all time. Thanks so much for your insensitive letter regarding returning a handicap hangtag that belonged to my Father-In-Law. I especially appreciated the time you took out of your busy day to write the following sorry-assed sympathies before demanding back your tag: "Please accept my apology for intruding on you during this difficult time; however, the Motor Vehicle Administration has a responsibility to monitor the Disability Parking Program (Oh, so that's what you do with my tax dollars). And then, "We have received information indicating that Mr. David F. Smith has passed away...", blah, blah, blah, for 3 paragraphs and THEN you say we need our handicap tag back.

First of all the "we have received information..." part kind of gives me the whillies. You make it sound like the Department of Homeland Security notified you or something and you must get that tag back before it ends up in enemy hands. Secondly, I have to say: Huuh? Are you fu@#king kidding me? The man was 86 years old, just died and while the entire family is in mourning, you send out a letter asking for his frickin handicap tag back. Again, I say are you fu#@ing kidding me? Douchebag. Also, many thanks for the return envelope without a stamp! How thoughtful of you to force a person to have to locate a 39 cent stamp during this most difficult of times.

And anyway, what would I do with this valuable bit of hangtag plastic in the next 30 days before it expires? Let's see: maybe I am going to drive all around town with the handicap tag of my deceased father-in-law so I can get excellent parking at the Target when I go in to buy my 8 pack of "Hanes for Her" and eat a sad little lunch of 6 week old popcorn from their sick little food court? Maybe I might sell it on Ebay to the highest bidder and then claim it was stolen. Come on. You have access to our records at the MVA (I'm sure you snoop around and do background checks on all of your douchebag friends and relatives) and can tell with a mouse click that we are law-abiding citizens and all around good-doobies and it is stupid and rude for you to send a letter like this. Don't ever write me a letter like this again.

Love Always, E

PS: Sorry about the teeth marks on the tag, I do not know how that happened.

Dear douche who shoved me on the 7 train this morning,

So I understand that it was an ungodly 5:50 AM and a frigid tundra-ten degrees outside, and neither one of us was thrilled to be commuting under those conditions. I understand that you weren't pleased with my entry onto the subway car and the fact that my 20 lbs of Pilates gear crashed in to you as I boarded.

However, I really don't think this warrented the action you took of walking past me, rather, crashing in to me five calculated minutes later, nearly knocking me over and asking me "how do you like that shit bitch?" and continuing an ugly banter of how I was so wrong and rude?

Listen, we're all just trying to get around to where we need to be man. And honestly, had you moved your 300lb double wide away from the car doors just 1 or 2 feet (I'm not that big, even with tundra-force bundling) or better yet, had you stepped further INTO THE TRAIN, which was pretty fucking empty might I add, I would not have had to plow through you to board. And I did say excuse me, but obviously your gorilla parents who raised you didn't teach you the meaning of the phrase.

Please, for the betterment of straphangers citywide, move aside or inside and don't be such a fucking subway door whore, DOUCHE!!

Love,
Bex

Dear Ann Coulter

You've done it again! Congrats, you're going to sell more books, and all you had to do was call former VP candidate John Edwards a "faggot" today! Yay, more progress for the human race! Way to keep your base happy! Hey, you know what, that's a pretty snappy insult, and a very creative term you used. If you don't mind, I'm going to use one, and go "old school" too, as I enjoy insulting people at random too. I hope you enjoy my word of the day.

Never has the word "CUNT" ever had a more vivid, colorfully bleached blond image that could be applied to it. Ann Coulter is a cunt. No need to politicize it, as Al Swearengen would say, “she's a hard cunt, period. Now break out some of those fuckin' peaches Tom!” (DEADWOOD IS AWESOME)

Someone needs to sit her down, not let her move or speak, and read all her books to her. Real slow. Get someone from France who speaks poor English to read it all to her so it hurts more. Afterwards, she may still agree with all that crazy shit she spews, but at the very least I think she'd react with a, "Geesh, I'm kind of cunty aren't I?"

From attacking grieving widows, to using racial slurs or calling presidential candidates “faggots”. Lil’ Annie Douche surprises no one with her professional hate mongering. Oh, and as for expressing your own opinion to Ann you may not realize it but she has re-written the first amendment, “One person, one view, everyone else be quiet, while I wash my long, saggy, bleached blonde balls in the sink."

I wanna know what the single event or what person in Ann Coulter's life shaped her basic drive to express herself so strongly (aside from Adolf Hitler). We already know the event and people that compelled the grieving 9/11 widows in New York to express themselves (right or wrong). Tell us your story Ann, why so angry? Did daddy not give you a pony in sixth grade, because of taxes and poor people sucking him dry? Oh and they were people that didn't believe in Jesus to boot? Geesh, you know that would turn me into a cunt too.

Bottom line Ann, even though people tell you Jesus is mad at you for the time you ate out that chick to pledge into that sorority, he really isn’t. He’s mad that you ENJOYED it, you Adam’s apple having, turkey necked, homophobic super-douchecunt.

Fuck you Ann Coulter, you’re a true un-American douche.

Love,

Dennis

Dear Ticket Inspecting Douchebag in Melbourne...

Thanks for being too lazy and too impatient to wait for me to find my ticket before fining me..
I got the infringment notice in the mail today

I suppose it's not all your fault.
It's not your fault you're an angry little douche with a petty little life.
It's not your fault you suffer from premature baldness a big fat gut and you're a douche.
It's not your fault you're furious you're not a real cop and can't carry a gun .. (thank the lord of the douchebags for that one!)
It's not your fault the only power you have in this world is by being a douche and ruining peoples days doing random acts of douchebaggedness ..
It's not your fault, you're just a simple douche trying to make a living.

I worked 2 days to pay that ticket... you are a douche...and nobody will ever love you... because you're a douche.


MojoJoJo

Dear Fast and Furious wannabe,

Who the fuck do you think you are? Yes, you own a Honda Accord, and yes it has ground FX, a fluorescent pink racing stripe and a huge yellow spoiler in the back. And yes, more than likely you should be at home doing your homework or attending to one of your out of wedlock children, but that does not give you the right to spin your tires out seventeen million fucking times in a row, in front of my place while I’m trying to watch ROME.
You fucking loser. If I wasn’t terrified of red heads and non-caucasians, and didn’t have a bum knee, I would totally walk out on my back deck and give you a stink eye. I wouldn’t raise my hands or wave them aggressively at you, I wouldn’t flip you off or yell curses at you, I would just stare and you would know, you were fucking up my night.
So listen Vin Diesel, the next time one of the cats from a rival gang challenges you to a race off or jerk off down by the beach, please make sure to remind him there’s a husky looking white dude who will totally stare you down and make you feel guilty if you decide to race there.

Denny

Dear Douchebag in RI,

ZToy know who you are, and you have some thinking to do. You make me so mad, but at the same time you make me happy. You can be soo good at times, but the rest of the time you are what you say you are a jerk. I wish I could get you to see where i'm comming from and understand my side of the convo. That's all I really have to say and I feel a little better knowing that I got that off my chest. Everything else I have to say i already told you.

-Pam

Dear Department Head Douchebag,

This morning I saw a job posting on Mediabistro for a position at your organization and I knew I would be perfect for. My skills impeccably matched what the company was looking for and the place sounded like somewhere I would totally fit it.

The problem was that I had to send my cover letter and resume to a generic Human Resources email. There was no name to address the letter to - just a plain anonymous email address. And we all know what that means. My cover letter and resume were going to go unnoticed and mostly likely unread with no acknowledgement whatsoever that it was even received.

So, I decided I would go one step above to get my resume noticed. I do some extra work and research to find the name of the person who is in charge of the department this job would be in. And that is exactly what I do.

I find your information.

But before I even email you, I follow the rules of the job posting to a tee and send my cover letter and resume along with my salary requirements to the generic HR email address.

Then I contact you. I mention that I know I was supposed to send my resume to HR and explain that I already did. I followed the job posting rules to the letter. But, I add I did research to find your name and email, so I could send my information directly to you. To get a leg up on the competition. To stand out from the pack. To rise to the top. To show I am perfect for the job.

My email is eloquent, to the point and quite frankly, pretty kiss ass. I’m convinced you will read it, know why I did what I did and perhaps get on the horn to call me in for an interview.

But, how wrong I was.

About 5 minutes late I receive an email from you. I am excited to open it. Could you be getting back to me so quickly about my resume? Was I that convincing? I sit for a moment and when I can’t take it anymore, I click on your email.

It simply reads, “send to HR as noted in job posting.”

I stare at in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I mutter to myself.

You couldn’t even have the decency to read the first fuckin’ sentence of my email, could you?

Douchebag.

Yours truly,
Qraig

Dear Cinema-goer who sat next to me at the "Hannibal Rising" premiere the other night,

Thank you for making a mediocre film experience tortuous by constantly sucking air (or saliva - I'm not sure) through your teeth. What I thought was just an initial "tst tst" response to some pretty gorey visuals on screen turned out to be a non stop suckfest for the duration of the movie. I thought maybe then you had a tic, an involuntary nervous habit as the sucking sound seemed to escalate during more frenzied and violent parts of the movie (of which there were many). So I tried to exhihit some retraint and practice patience sensing this could be without your control. However as the night wore on and the sound grated on my ears and pulled my focus from the juiciest parts of Hannibals early years, I found myself wanting to slap you and wishing that if indeed you had some condition of oversalivation or tension tic, you would sit the hell away from me. I know this is harsh but the cinema was not full and seeing as you yourself complained about someone crossing back and forth
in front of you before the show even started, one would surmise you might be more responsive to the annoying habits of yourself and find yourself an empty seat. Next time perhaps a matinee show where you can suck, suck, suck to your hearts content.

-Fiona

Dear NBC,

Why oh why do you ruin my evening by showing re-runs of my favorite TV show "ER" right smack in the middle of the current season? I can't tell you how much this annoys me and ruins not only my enjoyment of the show but dare I say my whole Thursday evening. I rushed home last night from a moderately interesting dinner with half a bottle of wine left a-wasting on the table, only to see an episode that was first screened last October or thereabouts wherein Abby gives birth and the child is perilously close to dying. Now I know FULL WELL that the child has recovered, given that the child is now shall we say at least 5 months old in TV months and doing quite well thank you very much. What possible good is there in watching this episode again, especially out of context with the previous weeks offering? If you must screen reruns, at least have the decency to show them in order, not sticking them in randomly in the middle of the new season. I was forced to channel surf in response and ended up watching English blokes living with the Kombai tribe of New Guinea. Not the perfect way to end my Thursday. Watch out NBC! You're on my sh*t list!

-Fiona

Dear God,

Listen Lord. If you are going to continue to talk to a mortal here on earth, I would urge you to consider someone other than Pat Robertson.....please!!!! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he has kind of a big mouth. I’m sure when you told him about the impending doom due at the end of 2007 that it was something you told him in deepest confidence. Well…guess what? He told EVERYONE!

Now a lot of people who listen to Pat Robertson are really nervous. My feeling is, if you were to share you feelings or thoughts, please tell someone who doesn’t have the common sense of a 16 year old gossip queen. (Also I may add, you should totally hate him now and feel free to tell everyone what Pat did with the football team after the pep rally last Friday behind the gym mats, he's a total slut!)

Also, while you are at it, make McDonald’s food healthy and go ahead and give me just a little more penal girth.

Amen,

Dennis

Dear Douchebag,

You lived in my appartment for 3 months,but it seemed way longer than that.your constantly braying on your cellphone sounded like a jackass who got its nuts stepped on,and you ate every goddamn thing in site without having courtesy to ask or replace anything,when you started asking for shit is when i drew the line. I was still nice and willing to work things out until you called the police on my appartment,saying we were holding your stuff wrongly when you knew full well you owed me a lot and agreed to me holding on to your shit when i talked with you.you went into court after i sued your ass(and after you said you didnt owe me anything)with your fat bitch lying girlfriend and the judge saw right through that.(you also agreed to take care of the neighbors cat,which i never said was ok and got stuck taking care of when you decided you didnt want to do it anymore)then after the fact you claimed you took complete care of it the whole time,where if you would have had your way the
cat would have ran away.long story short,you are a douchebag,John wayne Jackson.you are a complete piece of shit,completely worthless and nothing but a user.its been over a year and im still waiting for my money you owe me,which isnt nearly enough.i should have just said fuck you from the begining and kept your money,or just sold your shit instead of telling you,and that way i could have gotten what i am owed.not like you would have taken care of any of it.you are a worthless piece of shit and i hope all the other people you hang out with learn what a worthless loser you are.by the way,your word as a man is worth shit,and you are a bitch

From,
Anonymous

Dear Douchebag Clothesmakers,

When I walk into your store bi-annually, and look at “pre washed” jeans and the $60 plus sales tag on them, I am pissed. Where do you get off thinking I’m going to want to spend a lot on a pair of jeans that look like they’ve been worn a paltry15 times. That is BS!

In this day and age, I should be able to get “pre washed, pre-worn, pre-sweat –in, pre-spilled on, pre ripped, pre-pocket corner holed, pre-killed someone in, pre-kicked the dog for shitting on the floor, pre-marathon run, and pre-shat in jeans that have been worn 3,000 times for my sixty dollars!

Quit selling us perfectly tapered, jet blue, denim tube legs, constructed by hungry 6-year-old Pan-Asian kids with OCD. I shouldn’t have to break the pants in myself, that takes time and patience, two things Johnny Pantsmaker that are frankly un-American. Spend some money on your “Pre Wearers”, and make sure they don’t shower, and break in the jeans that I will slowly destroy with daily rituals, and bad hygiene.

This is America, I shouldn’t have to break in my own slacks!

Dennis

Dear JD Smith from Delta Airlines,

I don’t think you got the gist of what I was asking you to do for me on the phone today. When I asked if I could move my wife’s seat next to mine for our flight, I did not expect you to respond with, “Is there anything else we can help you with today?”

You were very, very, passive aggressive to me, which isn’t cool. I shrugged it off though, thinking that maybe the reason you asked me such a strange question at such an impromtu point was because of the phone connection. You should talk to your tech guys, because you sounded like you were 10,000 plus miles away or something. Like maybe you’re in India or Malaysia. Really weird.

Anyway, the real reason I think you are a douchebag is because I still havent’ gotten my wife’s seat situation sorted out. After ten minutes you were still unable to locate my flight, even with my locator number. Remember, you even repeated commonly used words with the first initial of each word to make sure you had it right, “Charlie-Lima-Elephant-Ostrich-Xylophone-Tennis and Diphthrxanknpolhsdlikfiol”

When you still couldn’t “locate” my flight reservation, you decided to pawn me off on your supervisor “Betty Marge Johnson”. Bettys’ English, although only half as broken as yours, was not too Betty-ish. I can only hope I’m not seated in the luggage compartment.

Quit towing the company line “JD Smith”. You’re a real corporate douchebag.

Love,
D

PS You’re still not as big a douchebag as Bill O”Reilly.

Dear Douchebag Creator of One Ply Toilet Paper,

You must be an angry person who relishes the idea of his customers walking around with "shit-hands" all day? Either that or you are trying to be cheap, my guess is the latter. Do you think anyone out there, who doesn't wear a helmet 24 hours a day, braves the integrity of your paper by NOT doubling or sectupling the layers of your cray paper wipant? Give me a 9,000 foot roll of single ply toilet paper and I guarantee it's gone in seven hours (three on Sunday when football is on). I may as well be wiping my ass with pixie dust, the way your single ply TP disintegrates in my coarse, foul shitbox. I and many others are on to your scam dirtbag, and I will continue to pay the extra $1/per roll for that layer of security that shields me from direct contact with my rusty sherriff's badge. Quit playin' with your butthole "One Ply Inventor", you're a gross dude and a true douchebag.

Love,

Dennis

Dear A**hole who sat in the front row of my performance last night.

Have you heard the old adage "Are you in showbusiness? No? Well take your feet off the fecking stage so!". I don't know if you have ADD or are non compis mentis but if you even have the vaguest notion that you might be the kind of person who's easily distracted (by that I mean looking around ALL THE TIME during a performance) then its probably not the best idea that you sit in the front row in full light during a solo performance with you feet resting on the stage so that I almost trip over them. I don't know who the hell you were looking for. A long lost relative? Your disintegrating brain cells? But I really wanted to wallop you and say "get the f*ck out of my show!". And then to top it off - during two curtain calls you didn't even clap once! Not once! Listen mate, save the theater-going public the annoyance of seeing your pasty -four-eyed face in the front row and stay home. We don't need your hostility, disinterest or business!

-Fiona

Dear Rush Limbaugh,

Rush Limbaugh - Odious Gasbag!
Originally uploaded by Buddy Stone.

Last week on your radio program you blasted Michael J. Fox for faking his Parkinson's tremors. You said that he was obviously acting and that you KNEW his body could be controlled better than that. You actually accused him of not taking his medication to make his Parkinson's worse! You truly are a douchebag. No one said you were faking when you admitted to being addicted to Oxy Contin, a drug you didn't need for any life-threatening condition. No one made fun of your perceived "illness" as you made fun of Michael J. Fox. Who the hell are you to get high and mighty? Fox is dying from an incurable disease and you have no sympathy. Get caught doctor-shopping and stealing your maid's husband's pain pills and suddenly you deserve understanding? Blow me, Limbaugh, you're an asshole douchebag.

-
Heather

Dear Chase Bank on 42nd and Broadway,

I have just gone through menopause while waiting to order a bank draft. Why oh why would you only have one person who can take care of foreign exchange in a busy midtown (heavily populated by foreign tourists) branch? And why oh why do you see fit to let all tellers go on their lunch hour at the same time when most of your customers do their banking at lunch time? And you don't even give free pens and candy! At least Commerce gives you free pens and lollipops.
I guess you also took down the sign that said you get $10 if you're not served in less than 5 minutes orobably 'cos you knew you'd go broke. As I left the bank there were 10 people on line and all equally frustrated. Might I suggest a novel idea to you? You know where you have the sign that says "Customer Service" and "Teller Service" that you actually offer that? It's a crazy idea but it just might work. I wasted 15 minutes of my precious lunch hour today and still did not get served. Lollipopland, here I come.
- Fiona

Dear Douchebag Boss,

Why must you fall into that stereotypical role of being an asshole boss? Not only are you NEVER able to cop to a mistake, you have the uncanny ability to point out my mistakes within milliseconds of making them, no matter how inconsequential.

Also, please stop making me feel uncomfortable in the bathroom. I don’t mind that you always pick the urinal right next to me, or that you have to “shake” longer than the average fella, that is cool, I fucking love that. It’s when you share your thoughts on immigration, minorities, and how“black coaches in the NFL will never win the big one because….well you know”. In addition, the disappointed look you give me, when I don’t laugh, or agree, leads to even more discomfort.

Your eating habits make me want to projectile vomit on your penny loafers (Take the pennies out you big fag,this isn’t 1984). You eat with a mouth more open than Paris Hilton’s on a night out with the New York football Giants. Here’s a tip, if you EAT WITH YOUR MOUTH CLOSED, then maybe you won’t be so hungry ALL THE TIME, and the good majority of the food won’t be falling out of your shitty mouth before you can even swallow it.

Shut your filthy shit-hole mouth douchebag!

Sincerely,
Annonymous

Dear douchebag drives and pedestrians,

So I was out for a good portion of the afternoon running some errands. I was getting generally frustrated driving store to store looking for my (apparently) hard to find "products."

Anyway, I was really trying to keep my cool on the road. No sense in getting all worked up over other's stupidity. But, now that I am home - I need to vent. I am a nice driver, I let people over, I let people turn in front of me – even if there is nobody behind me, I stop for pedestrians. I do all the nice things that I wish people would do for me. Especially when I am trying to cross the road in the middle of a fucking rainstorm!!! All that I ask in return for my kindness is a little wave. Just one little acknowledgement that I did something polite and you recognize it and appreciate it. I deserve that. I have surrendered my right of way (except you pedestrians), all I ask is a half assed hand in the air "thank you." A simple nod to let me know that you know that I care – and that maybe you will return the favor to somebody in the future.

I am so sick of your fat, smoking, guess jean wearing ass pulling out in front of me like your POS car owns the road. The only thing you own is the back 1/3 of that rust bucket with the "Bush" bumper stickers holding the back window together. Just because you are dumb and ugly doesn't mean that you don't have to be polite. But I am limiting myself. It is not just the “heaps” that act this way. Those of you in your SUVs and your luxury cars do the same thing. And the minivans, too. No category is safe from the wrath of this letter. Wake up and learn to be polite, douches. We all drive, we all share the road together. Where are you really going that is more important then where I am going? Taco Bell? Or perhaps you heard there was a sale at Wal-mart? Unless you are being held at gunpoint, or have a pregnant woman in the back – there is no need for your rudeness.

And, because I am on this rant, I am going to get specific about my trip today. First, I am calling you out “Mr. Old Beat-up Gray Chevy Pick-up Truck.” Yeah – I saw you hit that dog. You insolent fool!!! Granted to dog ran out into the road – but you have a responsibility. There is no reason you couldn’t have seen it running in that yard and at least attempted to stop. Fuck face. Then, after you HIT IT you could have stopped too – and at least pretended to care. I stopped. It seems that the dog was lucky. He was scared and bruised, but not dead. Of course there could have been internal bleeding, but I don’t know how to check for that. Dickhead.

Next “shout-out” is to you “Mr. Punk-ass teenage bad driver, not looking where you are going.” If you are going to peel-out of a parking lot and try to “merge” with moving traffic, make sure that cars aren’t stopped. It has been a long time since I have heard a noise as loud as you slamming into that lady that was clearly NOT moving!!! Great, you have a V6 in that gold thing you think is a sports car – but guess what?!?! NOBODY CARES!!! All that people care about is that you watch the road and at least pretend to know how to drive. Pay attention and maybe your insurance rates will go down…and your hood won’t be held down with duct tape. Heathen. I cannot stand you.

OK – I have said enough. I will just leave you all with this message. I am on my last leg. I am about to not be polite on the road. I am tired of giving, giving, giving. Unless you change your ways, I am going to change mine. I will no longer let you merge in front of me, or turn early, or you, pedestrians, you can wait in the cold rain. I won’t care, I won’t care unless you wave.

Yours Truly,
Gordon

Dear Douchebag John Mark Carr,

I hope your family does the right thing and commits your delusional, sociopathic, predatory ass to a hospital for the rest of your natural life so you can get the lobotomy that you need, your a sick sick fuck and I pray that any children whom have been vicitimized by you in the past tells their mommies and hauls your ass off to prison.
-Natasha

Dear the homeless douchebag who insists on calling MY sidewalk, HIS home,

Thanks for shitting everywhere and moving in all that classy box furniture and broken bicycle parts. Yeah, I really love what you've done with the place. I especially love it when you say Good Morning, like you're the happiest homeless guy on the planet. But you don't fool me; I know you're still drunk from the night before. And now I've had enough! You smell like a sewer, you litter trash everywhere and you shit where I can see it. So, that pretty much makes you a douchebag. I know you're homeless, but you gotta find another sidewalk.

-Kristy K.

Dear Giulia,

I take offense at your latest "Mitt bashing" entry. I have been the governor here in Massachusetts since the "glory days", before we allowed homos to get hitched. Let me be clear, my administration takes no pride in being the first in the history of the United States governorhips to allow pillow biters to legally wed.
I remember back when butt pirates could do whatever they wanted so long as they didn't tell anyone about it. Why do they have to be married like my mommy and daddy were? It's just confusing. I can barely grasp the concept of putting a penis into a vagina, let alone putting one where I make BMs from.

You speak of supposed, abusive heterosexual parent couplings, of which I admit, some may exist. I confess some people have strange parenting techniques. Heck my father spent his off hours diddling shetland ponies and soaking his testes in buttermilk. (He believed it could be possible to have the world's first wrinkle-free scrotum.)

Nonetheless, this is a country that promotes free speech. You have every right to criticize me. In all honesty I just don't want anyone to think I'm gay. I look pretty masculine right? I have Ken doll hair, and a square jaw, and always iron my slacks. What? That's a little gay you say, and Ken is a uneuch? What the hell is a uneuch? Shit, I always though he was just wearing tighty-whities. Uh, nevermind I don't play with dolls. Barney Frank for president! I mean, yay Bush!

Mitterino P. Romney
Governor
Gayssachusetts

(aka Dennis)

Dear Dip n' Dots,

Thanks for lying to me when I was 11.
You are NOT the ice cream of the future.
And don't tell me to be "patient".
It's been 13 years I think I am clearly living in the future.
No, I will not buy into the notion that the future is this never reaching place in time that your ice cream is popular in.
Let's be honest, your ice cream looks cool, but it tastes bland. I find it hard to believe that in the future I will have somehow lowered my taste standards.
Just admit it. You're a bunch of liars.

Sincerely,
Erika Brooks Adickman

Dear one-legged chick on Amazing Race,

First off, why do you go out with such a douchebag, and what in god's name compelled you to go on national television with him? That's not why I'm writing though. Here's why: Why must you keep reminding us you have one leg? WE KNOW! It's real obvious. I love you dearly and commend your bravery, however, slipping the one-legged attribute/weakness into one out of every three sentences or statements is a tad excessive, and is also a prime example of stating the obvious. YOUR LEFT LEG IS ROBOTRONIC!

I understand the concept of overcoming hardships and weaknesses. And I feel as though if your weakness or handicap is great, then, yeah maybe it merits more attention then say a head cold or I dunno ADHD.
The reason I am sensitive to this, is that you are a TV star now. Any other TV stars with obstacles to overcome did not, announce them every third word. For example. When Gary Colemans' character "Arnold" on Different Strokes was ever confronted with a conflict, he never turned to the camera and said, "I am a short, black midget with freakishly child-like features, and I may have some trouble here with this up and coming conflict." When Corky had to do math homework on "Life Goes On", he never had the opportunity to do an inner monologue to the affect of, "Math is hard for me because I'm retarded." (The same could be said for anyone who ever appeared on "Taradise" or that younger Carter brother.)

My advice Sarah. The next time someone tries to make you climb up a wall with a faulty, fake leg, either tell the producers to go fuck themselves for making a one-legged girl climb up a wall, or strap that thing on, keep your mouth shut, and hop to it bitch!

Love,
Dangerous D the Destroyer

Dear Trash Man,

Well just fuck you for not taking the bureau the I threw out. What am I supposed to do with it now? I hauled it outside on Monday and waited all week, since Monday was a holiday and trash day was a day late. Today I go out to get the mail, and the rest of the trash is gone, but that piece of shit bureau is still there.

People in this shitty town throw out couches and tables and bureaus all the time, and you always take them. What's wrong with my bureau? Too nice for you? God damn you for judging my trash as too good for you. It's trash. So take it. That's your job, you uppity trash man.

Love,
Maria

Dear Douchebg co-worker who won't let me take a dump in peace,

images
Originally uploaded by Giulia1.

We don't have many moments to ourselves during a days work. But one thing that I hold near and dear to my heart is my alone time in the bathroom. After scoping out and settling into a quiet, uninhabited facility, why do you ALWAYS come barging in and disrupt my focus?
Now, I know that nature calls and there are times when you need to go ASAP, I totally understand that. This isn't the problem. The issue is that after I sit in the stall next to you, and wait patiently for you to wipe, you take 25 minutes to leave the bathroom! Aside from washing your hands and taking a quick glance in the mirror, you feel the need to do everything humanly possible to stay in there. First it’s the lipstick, followed by the blush, and then the eye shadow. Then we move on to flossing the teeth, popping some tic-tacs and blowing your nose. Now lets go through your giant bag to look for something else to do! Oh look! You found your planner! Lets see what else you have to do this week! Make a hair appointment? Great! Lets call… RIGHT NOW. Damn it! They don't have any appointments with Janet on Thursday? Now what?
Glad this is all going on while I sit here, waiting. Next time I'm just going to take a dump on your desk you big douche.
Sincerely,
Big V

Dear Raver on the L train this morning,

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Originally uploaded by Giulia1.

Now that was an unusual look, even for Williamsburg: a full-on rave outfit in 2006. Wacky dyed hair, gigantic nylon camo-print pants with ribbons, and all sorts of other nonsense. I didn't realize that someone could be in a K-hole for 14 years!
Just curioso, have you been wandering lost in the train tunnels all these years after your glow stick and matching necklace went out? Are you trying to start up the revival, or did you just perforate your brain with too much E like that girl in the extasy special on MTV? Oh well, maybe this is unfair and you really are a productive member of society. But not from the looks of things.
Love,
Cokane

Dear Toilet Seat Name Carvers,

images
Originally uploaded by Giulia1.

I wasted two hours of my life at a bar on the Sunset Strip a few years ago. It was the one with the mechanical bullriding, that had the drunk chicks on it, with big, sloppy titties wearing tank tops meant for eight year olds on them. You know, the girls that act surprised when their big, sloppy titties fall out of their tiny shirts.

Anyways, after watching these lovely ladies for an hour and 55 minutes, I had to urinate. I looked down at the toilet seat and noticed you and your vandal buddies had left your initials or tag names on the seat of the toilet. The tags weren’t in markers, in fact the artist had CARVED his note, with a KNIFE, into the shitty, piss drenched TOILET SEAT.

I don’t dislike you, I just think you are a douchebag. Just knowing you probably spent a good twenty-five minutes, snickering to yourself, as you knelt in pee, with your face inches from ass remnants and abandoned pubic lice makes me hate you. Are you really that big of a loser, cos’ it wasn’t that cool? I bet when you were doing this you had an accomplice who stood watch at thedoor, “Yo D-RIZZZAA, hurry up man!” All the while, there were big, sloppy titties flying around all over the bar out there. Know your priorities toilet seat carving douchebag!

D-MAC

Dear Co-office Workers,

As an additional note to Giulias Dear Offfice workers who comment on my lunch, I would like to add:

Please do not comment on my flossing and brushing in the bathroom. I'm merely exhibiting good oral hygiene and do not deserve inordinate praise for it. While it is commendable that I bother to not have the coffee breath some of you exhibit all day, I do not need my ego stroked for placing a toothbrush in my mouth. While comments such as "Oh you're so good" are not meant to somehow bolster my confidence,it is distracting and downright rude for you to start a conversation with me when I'm busy picking the pieces of lunch pizza from my back teeth. Also please do not continue talking about spreadsheets and such and when they might be ready when I'm in the stall itself. Needless to say my mind is on other things and the sounds you might hear will not necessarily answer your burning spreadsheet question.
Yours in truth,
Fiona

Dear Douchebag Latin American Parking Attendant,

I just wanted to let you know more about myself, because I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday. My name is Dennis, I am a 28 year old, I think Capricorn, originally from Boston Massachusetts. I root for the Yankees, which is weird I admit, but then again, we all have our dents and flaws.

My concern and cause for this letter comes after a confrontation we had yesterday morning at the Washington Mutual parking lot, next to the IKEA in Burbank, California. Contrary to your verbalized claim that I was stupid (you said, and I quote, "Joo are a stupid!"). I think I'm not.

1. I am a card carrying banker at Washington Mutual.
2. I got a 1210 on my SATs (which isn't bad)
3. I'm not the guy working in the parking lot at Washington Mutual.

At no point, when you saw me park my car, look around to see that no one (you) saw me there, and run across the street to IKEA did you even think to ask yourself, if I belonged to the bank. And how am I supposed to know your secret rule, that I can't use my bank to park in for other shit. Furthermore, when you confronted me, I never called YOU stupid, I simply said, "THIS is stupid." To which you replied "JOO ARE STUPID! ASH-HOLE!"
You coulnd't care less, even when I waved my banking card at you from across the street you still threatened to have me towed.

Regardless of sticking to your so called "rules", you are a douchebag, just because I wasn't going to use the bank per se, doens't mean I shouldn't be allowed to use the parking lot I help pay for, to go across the steet and buy a 24 piece steak knive set for $6.99.
Eat shit parking lot guy, you're a true fucking douchebag.
Dennis

Dear Toby Baker,

Now, I know that you're the wife of my university's president, but does that really make an excuse for your douchey behavior? Oh, you don't know what I mean? Well then, let me explain. See my friends and I own a dog near campus known as Krypto, which you had the joy of meeting last weekend. Now you remember? Yeah, he was the poor little dog that was lost and running scared that you said was a vicious animal and had you "absolutely terrified." Now, I understand that a grown woman has every right to be terrified of innocent dogs but does that mean you get to have him taken away from us as well?
Well, I'm glad that your douchey fear of animals has made us lose our favorite housemate. I didn't really think you had that kind of authority before but now I've definitely learned my lesson. Will you outlaw birds on campus if one poops on your shoulder? That would be super douchey of you. Oh well, I hope you have a wonderful dog-free day, because I sure will!
Puppy Hugs and Doggy Kisses,
Joe