Dear Clif (Again)

Dear Clif,

It's been a while since we talked last. I've been trying to leave you alone. Let you do your own thing, make your own mistakes. You know. But we need to have another chat. Not about the taste of your breakfast bars this time. I've actually found a few that are fairly decent. This time we need to talk about these little inspirational messages on your wrappers. I'm sure these European bike trips of yours are really exciting. That's not true. I'm sure they are probably fucking excruciating. Miles upon miles of pedaling while having to listen to you drone on and on and on and on about vast glaciers and quaint villages and "explorative riding." Whatever the fuck that is. I'm willing to bet that the only reason your friends agree to go on these trips with you if because you're rich as balls and pay for the trip for them. Why the hell else would they put up with your shit? I know you're all about yoga and organic whatnot and good karma. That's great. But enough with the soupy, psuedo-philosophical drek already. Stay in your lane and stick to making mediocre-tasting energy bars. I think that would be best for everyone involved.

Thanks,

People Who Want Breakfast, Not A Life Lesson

PS: Why are they called Clif Bars if your name is fucking Gary? 

Dear Anton Newcombe

Dear Anton Newcombe,

You don't know me. But that's ok, because up until Friday I had no idea who you were either. Apparently, according to your interview in Friday's issue of The Metro, you're in some band I've never heard of called The Brian Jonestown Massacre. Having never heard of you or your band, I took to the vast repository of random information that is Wikipedia to find out more. Apparently you are the guys that wrote the opening theme to Boardwalk Empire, so that's pretty cool. I like that song. But after reading some of the things you had to say in your interview, I feel compelled to tell you this: You are a MASSIVE douche. This may sound like a silly question, but are you able to actually hear the words as the come out of your mouth? What am I saying? Of course you can't. There would be no possible way for a grown man to hear some of the words that came out of your mouth and keep a straight face. 

“Let’s be honest: The mainstream is a sewer...Why on Earth would I want to be anywhere near any of it? ... Growing up in Newport Beach and watching the culture change from local and well-to-do to transient new money bulls— forced me to forsake it forever.”

What. The Fuck. Does that even mean? If you were sitting in the freshman dining hall trying to get trying to get that cute sociology major down the hall to touch your penis, then that would be an acceptable statement to make out loud. But you're FORTY-FIVE! Let me repeat that: Forty-five. You have a wife (unfuckingbelievably) and a child. Who are you still trying to impress? Your band has a full time tambourine player and you haven't washed your hair with shampoo since Ford was president. You're different. We get it. But wait, you also live in Germany now. How not mainstream of you. What made you choose Germany? No wait, let me guess.

“It’s the last place in the Western world that will adopt the outward trapping of a police state as we glide ever deeper into something that looks like and feels like corporate fascism,”

Did you just come back from a study abroad? I don't even know what to say to that. How can you be such a selfish asswipe? There are tons of upper-middle class white kids in small New England liberal arts colleges who have no other way to distinguish themselve but to spout psuedo-intellectual drivel like that. Why can't you just stick to being in a band and leave the pretending to be smart to them? 

So, in closing, I would just like to say that I hope you get prostate cancer in your gums.

Love,

Jack

NOTHING STICKS IT TO THE MAINSTREAM LIKE WEARING A DENIM TUXEDO AND AN APATHETIC FACE

Dear People Who Send Christmas Cards

Dear People Who Send Me Christmas Cards,

In the spirit of full disclosure, I feel obligated to tell you what it is that I do with those Christmas cards you mail me. I open the envelope. I take the card out. I look at it for about 10 seconds and say to myself "I should really call soandso." And then I throw it in the garbarge. I don't mean "I hang it up for a few weeks and then throw it out." I mean directly from the envelope into the garbage. I'm not much of a sentimentalist. To tell you the truth, you're not very interesting. And your Christmas cards are even less interesting. If you're ok with this knowledge, by all means keep sending me your Christmas cards. But just know that I won't take it personally if you decide to stop engaging in this colossal waste of time and energy and stop sending them. Because once again, I'm just going to throw them right into the garbage. 

Happy Holidays!

Love,

Just Somebody Trying To Save You All A Load Of Unnecessary Trouble

Unless your card is as ballsass crazy as this one...which it probably isn't.

Dear Freedom

AMERICA! FUCK YEAH!

Dear Freedom,

I don't really know how to say this, but I think it's time we break up. You see, Freedom, we really Which we can all agree is more delicious than freedomdon't need you anymore. I mean, we have a bacon cheeseburger with macaroni and cheese on it. We have Keeping Up With The Kardashians. We even have a 4G dildo-phone that doubles as a Wi-Fi hotspot. So you see, we'll still be the number one country in the whole wide universe even without freedom or due process or equal protection under the law. That shit's for liberals and fags anyway. As long as gays can't marry and corporations aren't regulated, everything that makes AWESOME (yes in all caps!) will be safe! Look, we've had a really good run. We had some laughs and we'll always cherish the memories we made together, but the time has come to say goodbye. And besides, you know that for the last thirty years we've just been going through the motions anyway. The National Defense Authorization Act of 2012 (which passed by a HUGE majority in both houses of Congress, btw)just said what we were both thinking anyway. But this will be really good for you. You can move on and find a country that really appreciate you they way we used to. I'm sorry freedom. It's not you, it's me.

Love,

America

XoXo

Yeah you thought I was kidding about that dildo phone, didn't you, motherfucker?

Dear Fox News

Dear Fox News,

You guys really tried to turn Thanksgiving into another "War on God" "Obama hates America" story? Ok...I think it's time we had a little talk. I get that this whole "culture war" thing is your schtick but come on. It's like you're not even trying to pass yourself off as a real news source anymore. That's no fun. I miss the old Fox News. WE all knew you were crazy but YOU didn't quite know it yet. So even though you weren't even within spitting distance of fair or balanced, at least it seemed like you believed all the crazy shit you were saying. Now it's like you're in on the joke and just trying to see how far you can push it. What's fun about that? It's just not sporting. So now that the joke has reached its end, maybe you could try being a real news network. You're right. Silly thought. 

Sincerely,

People Who Miss Your Unintentional Comedy

Ok, so maybe you haven't been trying for a while now.