Dear Mr. Asshole by BBalls McGee
From the desk of The Reality™ Institute [seal misplaced]
Mr. Asshole
Ashland and Augusta
River Forest, IL 60305
Dear Mr. Asshole,
Let me be honest, I have put this letter off for quite some time, my apologies for committing such a disservice. It was during the Halloween “season” in which I passed your house while on a drive through the neighborhood with a good friend. After stopping to take in the spectacle of your decorations, I came to the conclusion that you’re a big, douchey asshole. You had enough lights in your front lawn to land a plane. I can’t imagine that you put any of those lights up yourself, either. An immigrant worker getting paid less than nine dollars an hour probably put them up for you, and I bet the whole time he was thinking to himself, “What the fuck am I doing? Why does this asshole need all of these lights on his front lawn? It’s not like this is a landing strip.”
I bet your neighbors were pretty pissed too. Can’t imagine they slept very well with the glare and all, or really appreciated having the neighbor who everyone thinks is a huge asshole. Do your neighbors even talk to you anymore? I bet they think you’re conceited after seeing your house put on display like a hooker in the Red Light District, with over-the-top purple, green and orange rope and flood lights speckling the property. Did you hire Martha Stewart™? Looks like you did, and you probably told all of your “friends” too. You got a hard on every time you pulled up in your sweet Mercedes telling yourself, “I’m the man. I hired Martha Stewart to do this shit! Yes!” There’s probably some fist pumping and staring at yourself in the rear view mirror involved. You’re a narcissist and you need help.
If you make your house look like a hooker do you make your wife look like one too? No, you probably just pick up hookers while your wife thinks your playing tennis. So what’s with the hookers then? Is it because you are drawn to committing soulless, unpopular acts like decorating your lawn with a ridiculous amount of lights, wasting enough electricity to power a small village, consuming valuable resources for the sake of vanity, and you were probably on vacation while the decorations were up? Dick. Oh wait, I meant you are drawn to committing soulless, unpopular acts like fucking hookers. No, I meant both.
So please, when next Halloween comes around, think about what I’m telling you, because at least everyone else is thinking what I’m telling you. You’re an asshole.
Regards,
Officers of The Reality™ Institute
Cc
God
Your whore wife/girlfriend
Your neighbors