Dear Farty McFart Pants,
You're an asshole. Not because you farted, I can live with that, shit happens as they say. But you sir(or madame) chose to fart on an airplane. Multiple times. That I cannot excuse no matter how long we had all been trapped on that damn plane.
You think because of the excessive amount of time we'd spent on that tin can last night it was well within your passenger rights to rip one off that pleather coach seat? In case you forgot, the air is all recirculated in a pressurized cabin. A'int no rolling down the window of the Lincoln and letting it air out, that ass cloud is hanging around for a hundred miles. Should make the cheap pretzels and $9 whiskey in a plastic cup go down oh so smooth.
Its not even the disturbance of available clean oxygen that pisses me off the most, hell I've smelled other peoples shit before and I can now definitively tell you, yours is not special and most certainly does stink. The asshole move of it all is how rude you were to tease the rest of us with your newly enjoyed release. Im old and crotchety, you don't think I need to fart too? We've been sitting on an airplane for five fucking hours, of course I and everyone else in row 37 have to raise a cheek to the right, but out of the good kindness of our hearts, we chose not to tempt the other 123 passengers on the plane into turning Delta flight 2142 into a flying porta-john exhaust valve.
You on the other hand decided your sphincter just couldn't take the pressure anymore and had to rumble the bumble. I bet when you let it go you honestly thought it might not smell, like the rest of us wouldn't notice. Well, I have news for you...
You were wrong, asshole.
Sincerely,
Gus
Monday, August 22, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Non-Chivalrous People
Dear Non-Chivalrous People,
You're all a bunch of assholes. Maybe I'm just old, but when the fuck did it become ok to not hold the door as you walked through it for the next guy? Sure, its not going to slam on my fingers or break my nose, but Jesus Christ can't you be a bit courteous? No? Well, kiss my ass and sniff my ball bag you sum bitch.
When I was growing up, I remember a time that I did not hold the door for someone after me. I was with my father in a department store downtown. We we're finishing with our purchases which just so happened to include a new Matchbox car meant for me. As we strode out the door my father went first, holding the door and then passing along that responsibility to me for the lovely woman behind me. I was unaware at the time of her presence, or that my father was watching me dig through the bag of goods in search of my new toy and not holding the door for the lady as he had taught me. The woman caught the door just fine, but that mattered none to my old man...I had been rude. I remember this very clearly what he said to me:
"Son, do you know what you just did?"
"No sir."
"Son, you just let the door go on that nice woman walking behind you as if you were some kind of asshole, which then suggests to her that I must be some kind of asshole for not teaching my son to hold the Goddamn door open for people after he had passed through one. Do I look like some kind of asshole?"
"No sir, you don't look like some kind of asshole."
"No son, I do not. But now, I do look like an asshole because Im about to return the very toy I just purchased my son for being such a good young man. Do you understand my point about not being an asshole?"
"Yes sir, (sniff sniff) I do."
"Good. And don't say "asshole". You're too damn young to be saying "asshole"."
"When can I say "asshole"?"
"When you're either old enough or big enough not to have yours kicked for calling someone an asshole."
See there? Two life lessons in one shot (my father always did love a "Two For One" special). Clearly these lessons aren't taught anymore which both saddens me and causes me to use my creaky old shoulder a hell of a lot more.
Thanks a lot, you assholes.
Sincerely,
Gus
You're all a bunch of assholes. Maybe I'm just old, but when the fuck did it become ok to not hold the door as you walked through it for the next guy? Sure, its not going to slam on my fingers or break my nose, but Jesus Christ can't you be a bit courteous? No? Well, kiss my ass and sniff my ball bag you sum bitch.
When I was growing up, I remember a time that I did not hold the door for someone after me. I was with my father in a department store downtown. We we're finishing with our purchases which just so happened to include a new Matchbox car meant for me. As we strode out the door my father went first, holding the door and then passing along that responsibility to me for the lovely woman behind me. I was unaware at the time of her presence, or that my father was watching me dig through the bag of goods in search of my new toy and not holding the door for the lady as he had taught me. The woman caught the door just fine, but that mattered none to my old man...I had been rude. I remember this very clearly what he said to me:
"Son, do you know what you just did?"
"No sir."
"Son, you just let the door go on that nice woman walking behind you as if you were some kind of asshole, which then suggests to her that I must be some kind of asshole for not teaching my son to hold the Goddamn door open for people after he had passed through one. Do I look like some kind of asshole?"
"No sir, you don't look like some kind of asshole."
"No son, I do not. But now, I do look like an asshole because Im about to return the very toy I just purchased my son for being such a good young man. Do you understand my point about not being an asshole?"
"Yes sir, (sniff sniff) I do."
"Good. And don't say "asshole". You're too damn young to be saying "asshole"."
"When can I say "asshole"?"
"When you're either old enough or big enough not to have yours kicked for calling someone an asshole."
See there? Two life lessons in one shot (my father always did love a "Two For One" special). Clearly these lessons aren't taught anymore which both saddens me and causes me to use my creaky old shoulder a hell of a lot more.
Thanks a lot, you assholes.
Sincerely,
Gus
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Paul, the weaker brother from that Take The Money And Run show
Dear Paul,
You're an asshole. You signed up for this show knowing two things: you'd be locked in a fake holding cell for two days, and that you were not actually under arrest. I say again...YOU WERE NOT ACTUALLY UNDER ARREST. Your act of little bitchery single handedly cost your brother, your mom, and you from having a shitpot of cash for no reason other than being able to chill the fuck out in a fake holding cell while not actually being under arrest.
Look, I get you were bored. I get it was cramped quarters. I get the interrogators were pressuring you and trying to trick you into being a dumbass and tell where the money was hidden, but for Christ's sakes it was all pretend! You were never going to be handcuffed, never going to be charged with a crime, never going to have some man named Cecil ask you to drink from his "tea cup" in a 10x10 in Folsom. Nope, the only thing that was going to happen to you was being $100,000 richer. $100,000 for just hanging out in a room, wearing a goofy jumpsuit, and lying to Starsky and Hutch for a couple days.
Instead, you'll go back to your mom's basement playing with Star Trek action figures and knowing that deep down, your brother will never truly forgive you for caving. I bet that's a delicious and effective sleeping pill. Holiday meals should be a fucking chatter fest between you two;
"Hey Raul, remember that time we rode the rollercoasters at the fair?"
"No, but I remember that time you gave up the free $100k because you're an asshole."
"Yeah but Raul, what about all the times we played fort in the basement?"
"Shut up. Asshole."
If they had something on ya, like dirty pictures or a secret you never wanted your brother to know and threatened to tell him, I might could understand. Might could. But I don't, I just don't understand how your balls could be so shrunken by a bunch of phony bullshit that you'd give in with only a few hours to go.
Well, I take that back. I do understand...
You're an asshole.
Sincerely,
Gus
You're an asshole. You signed up for this show knowing two things: you'd be locked in a fake holding cell for two days, and that you were not actually under arrest. I say again...YOU WERE NOT ACTUALLY UNDER ARREST. Your act of little bitchery single handedly cost your brother, your mom, and you from having a shitpot of cash for no reason other than being able to chill the fuck out in a fake holding cell while not actually being under arrest.
Look, I get you were bored. I get it was cramped quarters. I get the interrogators were pressuring you and trying to trick you into being a dumbass and tell where the money was hidden, but for Christ's sakes it was all pretend! You were never going to be handcuffed, never going to be charged with a crime, never going to have some man named Cecil ask you to drink from his "tea cup" in a 10x10 in Folsom. Nope, the only thing that was going to happen to you was being $100,000 richer. $100,000 for just hanging out in a room, wearing a goofy jumpsuit, and lying to Starsky and Hutch for a couple days.
Instead, you'll go back to your mom's basement playing with Star Trek action figures and knowing that deep down, your brother will never truly forgive you for caving. I bet that's a delicious and effective sleeping pill. Holiday meals should be a fucking chatter fest between you two;
"Hey Raul, remember that time we rode the rollercoasters at the fair?"
"No, but I remember that time you gave up the free $100k because you're an asshole."
"Yeah but Raul, what about all the times we played fort in the basement?"
"Shut up. Asshole."
If they had something on ya, like dirty pictures or a secret you never wanted your brother to know and threatened to tell him, I might could understand. Might could. But I don't, I just don't understand how your balls could be so shrunken by a bunch of phony bullshit that you'd give in with only a few hours to go.
Well, I take that back. I do understand...
You're an asshole.
Sincerely,
Gus
Monday, August 1, 2011
Woman That Lives Below Me
Dear Woman That Lives Below Me,
You're an asshole. Not because you left me a note, without signing your name I might add(pussy), the first night I moved into the place asking me to be mindful of the shitty floor construction and that by walking as loudly as I did, caused your beauty sleep to be interrupted. Not because you stormed up to my door one night after I'd returned home from an evening of self-indulgence and called me several names, which even in my drunken stupor seemed rude for two people who had never been properly introduced, for once again "walking too loudly". Not because you took the time to type up a letter to the entire building about putting out our trash earlier than the stated rule said we could, and that if we didn't all start abiding by the set time parameter we would lose our privileges of trash collection, despite the landlord mentioning nothing about the so called "trash problem". No, you're an asshole cause you do shit like that, and then park in the fucking handicap parking spot.
Listen here bitch, I know which car is yours and I know that damn thing hasn't got a handicap plate or placard hanging from your rearview mirror. You clearly do not possess the DMV issued credentials to park in said space, I know because I've looked it up. Best of all, when its been taken by yet another asshole or heaven forbid, the one handicap person living in the building, you decide to stick your big ass SUV on the damn curb, a place the landlord has specifically asked us all NOT TO PARK! I don't know why in the blue fuck you feel entitled to that spot. Do you feel its your repayment for having such a loud-walking upstairs neighbor? Is it because Stacy put her trash out at 8:05pm? Let me tell you the reason....
You're an asshole.
Im going to have your car towed one day, real late at night when Im sure you've nestled in for a peaceful nights sleep. Im going to walk around in my really heavy cowboy boots, with real long strides where the heal hits first and it makes that long eco through your bedroom. And when you come running upstairs to beat on my goddamn door at 1AM, you'll pass by "your" parking spot to see the wrecker's flashing yellow lights blinking at you in Morse code. You know what it'll be saying?
You're an asshole.
Sincerely,
Gus
You're an asshole. Not because you left me a note, without signing your name I might add(pussy), the first night I moved into the place asking me to be mindful of the shitty floor construction and that by walking as loudly as I did, caused your beauty sleep to be interrupted. Not because you stormed up to my door one night after I'd returned home from an evening of self-indulgence and called me several names, which even in my drunken stupor seemed rude for two people who had never been properly introduced, for once again "walking too loudly". Not because you took the time to type up a letter to the entire building about putting out our trash earlier than the stated rule said we could, and that if we didn't all start abiding by the set time parameter we would lose our privileges of trash collection, despite the landlord mentioning nothing about the so called "trash problem". No, you're an asshole cause you do shit like that, and then park in the fucking handicap parking spot.
Listen here bitch, I know which car is yours and I know that damn thing hasn't got a handicap plate or placard hanging from your rearview mirror. You clearly do not possess the DMV issued credentials to park in said space, I know because I've looked it up. Best of all, when its been taken by yet another asshole or heaven forbid, the one handicap person living in the building, you decide to stick your big ass SUV on the damn curb, a place the landlord has specifically asked us all NOT TO PARK! I don't know why in the blue fuck you feel entitled to that spot. Do you feel its your repayment for having such a loud-walking upstairs neighbor? Is it because Stacy put her trash out at 8:05pm? Let me tell you the reason....
You're an asshole.
Im going to have your car towed one day, real late at night when Im sure you've nestled in for a peaceful nights sleep. Im going to walk around in my really heavy cowboy boots, with real long strides where the heal hits first and it makes that long eco through your bedroom. And when you come running upstairs to beat on my goddamn door at 1AM, you'll pass by "your" parking spot to see the wrecker's flashing yellow lights blinking at you in Morse code. You know what it'll be saying?
You're an asshole.
Sincerely,
Gus
Parking Lot
Dear Guy in the Black '94 Camry with Gold Accent Trim,
You're an asshole. You chose to park your car at the market yesterday in an area obviously not meant for parking. By sticking your shitbox where you did, you successfully eliminated the in and out flow of traffic for the entire lot, causing a backup into the street and placing all responsibility of which car gets to pull in or out next in other assholes hands. Thanks for that.
I hope you had a good time at the market, and that on your walk back to your custom made parking spot you dropped your ice cream cone, your bowels evacuated for no good reason, and you had to ride home in your shit pants.
However I should thank you for helping in the creation of this blog. If it turns into a mega million dollar website one day, I wont send you a dime. Now who's the asshole?
Sincerely,
Gus
You're an asshole. You chose to park your car at the market yesterday in an area obviously not meant for parking. By sticking your shitbox where you did, you successfully eliminated the in and out flow of traffic for the entire lot, causing a backup into the street and placing all responsibility of which car gets to pull in or out next in other assholes hands. Thanks for that.
I hope you had a good time at the market, and that on your walk back to your custom made parking spot you dropped your ice cream cone, your bowels evacuated for no good reason, and you had to ride home in your shit pants.
However I should thank you for helping in the creation of this blog. If it turns into a mega million dollar website one day, I wont send you a dime. Now who's the asshole?
Sincerely,
Gus
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