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2005-09-23 - 11:35 p.m.

Dear Jackass in the Jeep, dragging the trailer full of lawn equipment,

Look around, Genius. Notice how virtually everyone around you is traveling at 10-15 mph faster than you? See the angry faces of the other drivers?

Why is your dumb ass taking up space, puttering along in the FAST LANE? You are keeping the lead-footed speed demons of the world from getting someplace. Some of us have places to go, Assclown. Perhaps you could pull over to finish picking the lint out of your unwashed navel.

If you want to go 10 miles under the speed limit, do it in the right lane like God intended. Nobody likes a fartknocker that plods along in the fast lane, holding everything up. Everyone around you hopes you run over your own head in your driveway tonight.


Wilberteets, just one of the drivers you pissed off today.


Dear Asshole driving the red truck and dragging a huge camper that you can't see around,

Listen maniac, why is your dumb ass going 90 miles per hour in a 70 mph zone with a huge camper bobbing around behind you as if it were a blanket flapping in the breeze? You almost hit that car while you were impressing all of us with your mad lane-bobbing skillz. I hope you roll your truck out in the median, and it totals your truck. And I hope your insurance is lapsed. And I hope you then get a ticket for being an assmunch while driving.

Yours Truly,

Wilberteets, the incredulous


Dear Alternative Rock radio stations,

That's about enough of the Foo Fighters for awhile, ok? There are other bands, you know. Haven't we all fought enough Foo for now? Come on, cut me a break here. I'm ready to give up the fight and just let the Foo win.

Rock on, Wilberteets


Dear Assistant,

Good God woman. If you don't stop barging into my office every 5 minutes, I am going to go out of my mind. I didn't call you. That means I want you to stay your ass in your own little area for a while and do your work.

When you pop into my office, you can often see that I am holding some kind of black plastic looking apparatus near my head. This is a *telephone* and when you see me holding a telephone near my head, it pretty much means I am not available to chat with you. Chances are good that I actually want to hear the person on the phone, and not your unceasing chatter, telling me what you came in for, how you didn't know I was on the phone, and how fast you are going to get out and stop bugging me. You are a confusing and lovable little lady, but you are driving me f**king nuts. When my door is locked, it means I don't want anyone to come in. So don't stand there and knock. Do I really need to explain this?

Sincerely, Your boss.

Dear Internet Scam Artist,

It is deceptive and crooked to advertise a free freaky horoscope, free free free!! Absolutely FREE, nothing but FREEEEE, and then when it's too late, and you've got my cell phone number, you announce that there is a $9.99 monthly charge for this FREE service. You cleverly do not include the name of your business or your phone number, because you don't want your victims to know how to contact you or stop you from charging them your bogus fees. But guess what Poop-chute? My cell phone service provider gave me all your info. That's why you got those red hot emails and phone calls today. That's why you are blocked from sending your crappy text messages to my phone anymore and that's why you won't be receiving a dime from me or my cell phone company. I hope every hair on your flea bitten, shitpoke body turns inward and grows inside you, piercing every pain receptor you possess and developing into long tendrils that surround all your vital organs and squeeze the life out of you slowly and painfully.

Wishing you bad fortune with a burning hatred 10,000 times hotter than the sun, Yours truly, Wilberteets

spring - fall

8 This comments thingy doesn't work now because I let my paid membership lapse.

Words to Live By - 2015-03-04

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