Friday, June 24, 2005

Letter to the Editor

(The following was written to the editor of the 'Toronto Star' newspaper. I have little faith that this will ever be seriously considered or responded to – much less ever actually printed.)

Dear Editor:

Look douchebag, let me put it to you as simply as I can...


End of fucking story!

For the past two months, I have been receiving telemarketing calls from your newspapers marketing department to my home, always at inconvenient times such as dinnertime, early mornings, and even at inappropriate times in the evening as late as 9:45PM on a Wednesday.

Hey, here’s food for thought asshat: if all your offices and customer services numbers are unavailable to be reached at 9:46PM because they’ve all gone home at a respectable time to be with their families, why do you feel it’s perfectly acceptable for ME to be called at home at the same time, at 9-fucking-45 the same evening? Even my own mother wouldn’t dream of calling me at that time of night!

Each time I answer one of these excruciatingly frustrating sales calls from you, I just want to reach through the phone line and stab the sales representative in the throat with my dinner fork. Instead, since basic physics won’t comply with me to reach through the phone line, I respectfully decline their sales advances and adamantly state that I would NOT like to be called any further. Is this so hard to comprehend?

Do you listen? Do you take heed? Do you even give a shit?

Because the more I insist to be taken off your calling list, the more calls I seem to be getting. Obviously, you are not getting the message, nor are your scruple less promotional employees able to perform the simple tasks requested of them. Over this, I am not totally surprised considering the complete indifference that they display with me over the phone.

So, let me put it to you here clearly:

I do NOT live in Toronto; I DON’T ever go into Toronto, nor do I give a shit what happens in Toronto! I live in ST. CATHARINES! That's a whole 130 km's away! Your whole stinking city could be laid to waste by a falling meteor and reduced to a smoldering pile of ash and rubble inside an enormous crater molded into the earth, and I STILL wouldn’t give a shit about Toronto! And even THEN, I would still read about it gleefully in somebody else’s newspaper that I buy from the news stand!

I wouldn’t wipe my ass with your rag paper – Dig?

I would rather pay for the priviledge of having Rosie O'Donnell piss on me than ever consent to subscribing to your newspaper!

So given your current aggressive marketing and promoting strategies of literally bullying your potential customers into subscriptions at home with incessant phone calls from nasal, incompetent retards – I wouldn’t give your company two cents of my hard earned money, now or ever...that's EVER!

So in summation, dear sir: fuck you and anyone who may have the misfortune of looking like you, you unethical piece of shit.

From now on, whenever one of your sales representatives call me at home and disturbs my sacred feeding time and/or distrupts my favorite television show, I’ll just dangle the phone into my cats kitty litter so that you can hear him shitting and know that I’m thinking of you.




Blogger duckthunder2001 said...

Shit, shit, shit. Damn, thanks a whole lot. That was so damn funny I just soaked my last Attends.

6:53 PM  

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