Anarchy Aunt with Hairy Jim If you haven't already got a problem, you soon will have...
Right, firstly a few guidelines – all letters written must be
B) Written with NOTHING that has come out of your body.
C) About something.
I am writing in a somewhat blatant act of bitchiness and, sweet, sweet REVENGE. In order for what I wish to say to have some kind of pointed meaning – or at least a hint of a slur on society – I hereby insist that this letter concerns social pressures. More specifically, the Social Pressures that concern young people (I know that old people are encouraged to have sex at least twice a day, preferably filming any subsequent action and sending it to the BBC – but I enjoy that kind of thing so I choose not to complain), for instance –“one must fuck lots of spotty little boys” or “one must get drunk and take drugs”, and most vilely, “one must include plenty of Americanisms in one’s speech, and FUCK Queen’s English – she can’t even comprehend simple grammatical rules such as ownership and the plural (sorry if she’s schizophrenic).” Anyway, I am proud to write that I am acquainted with someone who is an effigy of having bent to these pressures. Not that it’s her fault – after all, she doesn’t have a mind of her own and she can’t exactly go up to someone and rip their brains out and eat them and retain the ensuing intelligence – why, she could break a nail… At any rate, as a result she doesn’t eat, she can be associated with practically any phrase containing the word “fuck” – for instance, she thoroughly “fucks” me off – and she’s so self-absorbed it’s a wonder her eyes don’t swivel round and point inwards…I suppose she prefers slightly more eventful views than the interior of her head – perhaps a small pile of shit. More to the fabricated point, she’s an excessive who claims that her life is empty. Her stomach is empty, I’ll give her that, but her life is full of the healthy joys of self-obsessed, closed minded adolescence. Well, gravity is a myth, you know – the world just sucks. I, as an enthusiastic member of the Countryside Alliance, and therefore old with shit coming out of every available orifice, suggest that she bucks up, dons a pair of wellies (preferably in a tasteful shade of bottle-green), a four-wheel-drive (preferably in a tasteful shade of bottle-green) and a small dog (preferably in a tasteful shade of bottle-green) and simply goes for a drive – “Pose and pollute”, that’s my motto. I can’t remember what my real motto is – you see, I have got one, on my family coat of arms…damn, must be in the loft somewhere…Oh no, wait it’s up my arse – gosh, and I thought it was just a slight speech defect.
Tally ho! Z.
While I am concerned about the pressures your ‘friend’ is under, it is my feeling that you are ignoring the real problem you are faced with. Let’s look at the facts: I guess you are what, 15? Have no friends, and are eternally disappointed, because you’ve always believed that you were top of the class, and that the maths prize was rightfully yours, not Greg Moore’s like they all said.
You thought you would write in (perhaps with the word ‘witty’ in mind) and show everyone how scathing and amusing you could be, with the hope of impressing many + winning friends. It hasn’t worked + you have succeeded only in proving to an even wider range of people how rubbish you really are. Good day to you sir. P.S. I have just reread your letter, what the fuck are you?
Dear Hairy Jim,
I need help. I did what they told me. I passed their fucking exams, I went to university and passed their fucking degree and now I’ve got myself an education I find I am thousands of pounds in debt and unwilling to play their capitalist games any longer. And now the jobsworths at the job centre expect me to get a job at McDonalds. Watching Trisha and Kilroy isn’t helping.
Start Dent (related to the famous Arthur Dent)
Dear whoever the fuck you are,
What do you want? Sympathy? Make friends with ‘Z’ from above + set up a whinger co-operative. God, I fucking hate the miserable.
Neither of you shits will be receiving glove puppets – I am too angry to sew. Now I understand why Trisha is such a gurning psycho.