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