To Whomever it Concerns: My Daiquiri Letters
October 17, 2005 << previous article 2 next >>
As anyone who knows me can tell you, I am defined by two great passions: consuming alcohol and composing letters. Below I present you with a series of letters (with grammar and spelling fixed) written in one night while consuming an impressive number of banana daiquiris (52 banana daiquiris). Enjoy.
we're not laughing
I'm calling you out. For too long you have subverted real American values with a constant stream of lies, innuendo, and pure bullshit. I can't turn on my television without hearing whining and moaning about how many thousands of people have died in Iraq so far. Did you ever think that all those Iraqis we have killed and mutilated deserved it for worshipping a false god? Or maybe that the American soldiers allowed themselves to be killed so that they could get to heaven sooner? If anything, you should be calling the deceased out for the heretics and selfish bastards that they are. Also, what is the deal with female anchors? Now don't get me wrong, I'm as big a fan of the ladies as anyone (the drunk girl I took advantage of last night can attest to that), but I don't like the idea of my daughterm due in 5 months, watching television and seeing some woman (likely wearing pants) sitting alongside men and talking about important world issues. I would hate to imagine my little girl pursuing a career of her own while her husband (if she even has one. sigh) sits in a dirty house, unfed, while her eggs go unfertilized. So, in summary: Fuck you. I'm going to go make an egg salad sandwich and go to bed.
Dear Samuel's Select Egg Salad,
I just ate an egg salad sandwich (one of my absolute favorite varieties of sandwich) prepared with your moderately priced egg salad. I suppose 'ate' isn't the right term as much as 'managed to force down my gullet against the violent surge of vomit trying to force its way up'. Seriously, what the balls? At first I thought maybe I had accidentally spread a thin layer of dinosaur semen on two pieces of bread without realizing it. No, it was a 10 oz tub of your egg salad with its ridiculous portrayal of an anthropomorphic egg wrestling an alligator. An alligator!? Honestly, are you trying to give egg salad an "edge" so it will appeal to children? Well give it up; egg salad is a treat only appreciated by adults with sophisticated palates such as myself. Maybe you should fire your marketing department and focus on making an egg salad that doesn't make me want to stick my tongue into a pot of boiling bleach. It is because of cunts like you that egg salad failed for the fifth year in a row to make Sandwich Quarterly's "Ten Sandwiches to Watch This Year". I swear, if I hear one more thing about ham and cheese I am going to bomb an abortion clinic.
what the fetus looks like when
gutted from the mother's womb
Hey babe, how's it going? I enjoyed having dinner with your folks this afternoon. They reacted surprisingly well to our announcement. So, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about. You know I love you, and everything I said about wanting to be with you forever was totally fucking serious, but I've been thinking a lot lately. I know it has bothered you that you had to quit playing city league softball, I understand how much that means to you. Also, you know how badly I've been wanting that motorcycle and I've just saved up enough money for a down payment. I'm sure you've had the same thoughts as me and haven't been able to express them, so I'll be strong for both of us so you don't have to. There is no reason we should ruin both our lives for one that hasn't even begun yet. Seriously, I need to feel the wind rushing through my hair and the rush of adrenalin as I rev my engine. I'm a young man for God's sake, I can't be tied down by a crying baby and a nagging wife. For your information I like being shirtless when I get home from work, it helps me relax, and I don't want to listen to you bitching about it as long as I'm paying the rent around here. That reminds me- I'm not so sure about you moving in next month, I really cherish having my personal space. Okay, well I'll see you tomorrow for our lunch date.
Love you, bye.
p.s. I set up an appointment for you at the abortion clinic for next Thursday (sorry, I won't be able to be make it). Good luck!
Jimmy Atwell is a writer for TheDailyComics.com