The greatest email ever.
I have to thank xviragox for this link, and also for the extreme compliment of asking me if I was, in fact responsible for it.
First, it helps to have read Dooce's saga of the $1,300 washing machine that would not fucking work. It's witheringly hilarious to begin with. She does, however, slander headless people, people with funny accents, squirrels, and Mormons, and so on, and thus it spawned an angry letter, an angry letter so wonderful that I feel I may weep.
May I please present to you The greatest email in the history of the world.
I want to quote from it, but I can't pick any one part. Oh, fuck it. Have the first three paragraphs:
Dear Mrs. Armstrong,
I am a Germanic headless anti-vaccination pioneer. I am deeply offended by your having opinions and complaining about your sub-par washing machine service.
My parents died when I was four years old. They were security guards at the city zoo that came upon a massive kudu heist in progress and halted the progress of the criminals long enough to be fatally stabbed seventy-three times in total. I spent many years on the stoop of a slumlord's crapshack, exposing myself to gang violence as bullets whistled by daily like sideways-going pigeon poop, listening to he and his portly halfbreed banshee-bull terrier wife rail against each other like two krumpers in a street circle.
I chose this loud locale for my home solely to learn to separate my w's and my v's properly amidst the screams of "piss-guzzling ass minstrel," "shit-swilling crap-belching vagina," "pithy rust-encrusted testicle envelope," and "burgeoning harlot, omni-wight-fucking chasm-cockpit, moss-growing volcanically throwing-up dick splitter, Blubberface McButtshit Taintlicker Esquire."
It only gets better -- and more insane -- from there.
The author of this gem mentions bacula. No wonder xviragox thought I wrote it. I'm all about the penis bones, as anyone who has read me for any length of time will know.
You must go read it all, every word, you truly must. The best stuff is further in, but is impossible to quote without context. It must simply be experienced.
I know that I am not responsible for it, though I wish I were. I do wonder, however, if it might have been the work of my sister. She's easily that hilarious.
I sadly suspect the true author may forever go unlauded, but nevertheless I would like to doff my hat to the perpetrator. Well-played, my headless friend. Very well-played.
First, it helps to have read Dooce's saga of the $1,300 washing machine that would not fucking work. It's witheringly hilarious to begin with. She does, however, slander headless people, people with funny accents, squirrels, and Mormons, and so on, and thus it spawned an angry letter, an angry letter so wonderful that I feel I may weep.
May I please present to you The greatest email in the history of the world.
I want to quote from it, but I can't pick any one part. Oh, fuck it. Have the first three paragraphs:
Dear Mrs. Armstrong,
I am a Germanic headless anti-vaccination pioneer. I am deeply offended by your having opinions and complaining about your sub-par washing machine service.
My parents died when I was four years old. They were security guards at the city zoo that came upon a massive kudu heist in progress and halted the progress of the criminals long enough to be fatally stabbed seventy-three times in total. I spent many years on the stoop of a slumlord's crapshack, exposing myself to gang violence as bullets whistled by daily like sideways-going pigeon poop, listening to he and his portly halfbreed banshee-bull terrier wife rail against each other like two krumpers in a street circle.
I chose this loud locale for my home solely to learn to separate my w's and my v's properly amidst the screams of "piss-guzzling ass minstrel," "shit-swilling crap-belching vagina," "pithy rust-encrusted testicle envelope," and "burgeoning harlot, omni-wight-fucking chasm-cockpit, moss-growing volcanically throwing-up dick splitter, Blubberface McButtshit Taintlicker Esquire."
It only gets better -- and more insane -- from there.
The author of this gem mentions bacula. No wonder xviragox thought I wrote it. I'm all about the penis bones, as anyone who has read me for any length of time will know.
You must go read it all, every word, you truly must. The best stuff is further in, but is impossible to quote without context. It must simply be experienced.
I know that I am not responsible for it, though I wish I were. I do wonder, however, if it might have been the work of my sister. She's easily that hilarious.
I sadly suspect the true author may forever go unlauded, but nevertheless I would like to doff my hat to the perpetrator. Well-played, my headless friend. Very well-played.