In Regards to Your Thoughtful Christmas Greeting...

"Fuck off!"

Just a quickie here, but what the fuck is wrong with that stupid bitch of an ex-girlfriend, the one who fucked, and then ran off with that goat-faced freak of a man (formerly 'friend')? I mean, I was having a perfectly miserable holiday without her memory, but that was too much to ask, i guess.

So, what does she do? She sends me an idiotic Christmas card with a barely legible greeting going on about hope and best wishes and so-on-so-forth. Well, though I'm flattered you stopped sucking his hairy ass for three minutes to scribble out that grade school level greeting, but next time do me a favour, keep you head buried deep in his ass and leave me in peace.

...You just don't see what is so very wrong with all this, hm? That fact alone is testament to the extreme stupidity of your existence.

It mattered not to me when we were going out that you dressed in the manner of a Bankok whore, or that your level of literacy was that of a garter snake. It didn't bother me that you had the breath of a cancerous street person, or that you often smelled of mothballs. Yes, my friends caught you pissing on public toilet seats. Yes, you were a lousy receptionist. And yeah, you were way too easy but sexually vacant. I could then, but I cannot overlook any of this now.

I'm not your friend. So, piss off.

Verily, my Christmas wish to you and your blathering idiot of a boyfriend:

"May a drunken rubby dressed as Santa break into your home, tie both you and that wretched midget of a boyfriend up and allow 8 tiny reindeer to first sodomize, then trample you both to paralysis. Wishing you the best with your new catheter,

Blogmonkey"