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Monday, August 18, 2008

To the Little Bastard Who Screwed with my Mailbox...

...I will get your ass.

I will.

I'm quite sure you thought it was funny to jam toothpicks or whatever it was into the lock so I couldn't open it. I'm sure you and your retarded, sociopathic, rednecked, one toothed, cross-eyed, sister-humping, inbred goober friends laughed your pimply little asses off at the thought me having to pay $50 to the post office in order to get the lock replaced.

That's fifty bucks you owe me.

And I will collect. In skin if necessary.

In fact, I have absolutely nothing better to do, shithead, and I'm coming for you.

13 comments:

  1. Actually, wouldn't that be a federal offense, tampering with mail delivery? I'd be pretty afraid of Jim Wright, pissed off and packing heat... but an adolescent prankster might be more impressed and deterred, by a visit from the Feds. };>

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  2. two things:

    1) It's only a federal offense if he lives long enough to be charged.

    2) Once the cost out of my pocket exceeds $5, it's no longer a prank.

    Just saying.

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  3. If the troll was shittin' his pants at the thought of Jim at long range, I *really* wouldn't want to be a stupid-ass punk in Jim's neighborhood.
    Run while you still can, dude. Seriously.

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  4. "I'm sure you and your retarded, sociopathic, rednecked, one toothed, cross-eyed, sister-humping, inbred goober friends"

    These guys stole our custom painted, awesome flaming mailbox a few years ago. Dipshits waited a year, then put it up at their house. Yeah. Hubby saw them and got the cops to recover it for us; as opposed to "rewarding" them himself. I think he bit a hole through his cheek though.

    Go get 'em Jim.

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  5. Well, Alaska has deep, dark winters. And bears. It's easier to hide bodies up there.

    Seriously, Dude, never walk down Jim's street again. Just because you can't see him, doesn't mean he isn't close enough to tell what soap you use and is measuring your breathing to know just when to gut punch you. I know the type. They're the ones that don't look dangerous, they don't beat their chests, don't fire warning shots, and they wait until your carcass stops twitching to say the pithy remarks they've saved up. And they usually have that disinterested smile on their face the whole time, like you're just an annoying fly that needs swatting.

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  6. Two words: television capacitor.

    I'm sure you'll know what to do.

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  7. John - would that be your brother's blog? Just askin'...

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  8. Will in SoCal, I'm sure your IP tracer already knew that though...August 28, 2008 at 7:04 AM

    "I'm sure you and your retarded, sociopathic, rednecked, one toothed, cross-eyed, sister-humping, inbred goober friends"

    Jim,

    You are pathetic...seriously, DUDE. You really think the shithead(s) that did this to your mailbox are going to take the time to read your rants, raves, and bullshit. You're sadly mistaken. The youth of today think they're gangsters, thugs, hustlers, pimps, etc...they're not surfing the web looking for some middle aged man's fucking blog where he whines and bithces about what's going on in the world.

    PLUS,

    This comment:

    "In fact, I have absolutely nothing better to do, shithead, and I'm coming for you."

    You really have nothing better to do with your time? This comment proves how pathetic you really are. I'm sure a techno geek like you has heard of installing a covert security camera to catch the little shitheads in the act.

    Hmm, there's a thought...instead of bitching about what some shithead did to your mailbox on the internet, why don't get off your ass and do something about?

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  9. Ah, yes, trollage first thing in the morning. Lovely.

    While the youth of today may not be "surfing the web looking for some middle aged man's fucking blog where he whines and bithces about what's going on in the world" - it would appear that Will in Socal does. And of all the things I've written, it's the mailbox post that gets his g-string all bunched up.

    Thanks for coming by, Will, now go take your medication.

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  10. My cousin lives in rural PA, where adolescent hooligans love to bash mailboxes off their posts. These are the old-fashioned kind of mailboxes -- on a post at the end of the driveway by the street. These morons drive along the shoulder of the road with a baseball bat and basically smash one after another...

    After their mailbox had been bashed off the post a few times, my cousin's husband decided to get back at the little f*ckers. He is a mechanic, so he has access to tools and thick metal plating. He whomped up a nice new innocent-looking mailbox in his shop. He made it out of some real thick metal plate, but it looked like a regular old mail box. He then attached it to the post (a fairly thick piece of wood) and painted it a bright jaunty purple. It sort of screamed "hey, look at me, I'm a mailbox, and I need to be bashed..."

    Then my cousin's husband waited and kept the front window open so he could hear. The night after he installed the new mailbox, he heard some smashing sounds down the street and figured that they were coming along, heading for his mail box. Eventually he heard a *BANG*, then a screech, then someone say "what the fuck was that?"

    The mail box was sturdy enough that it survived the hit and hurt the kid in the process. Apparently it took them several more trips over the next few nights, but they did eventually get it off the pole. My cousin's husband was highly satisfied, although I've heard him talk about booby-traps for the next round...

    He isn't quite the asshole that you are, though.

    Natalie

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  11. You're *such* a techno geek Jim!

    Asshole.

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  12. Yeah, witless in socal there has me all figured out.

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