Do you remember me? Do you remember the way you used to hold me?
Now you can get offended by the internet more easily than ever!
Finish reading An Easy Form Letter for All Your Internet Outrage Needs
Hello friendly neighborhood patron! You may be reading this because you noticed there is no rating from the health department in our window. Now I do recognize that this is a bit of a strange occurrence and may seem like a cover up for a poor rating but I assure you: it certainly isn’t.
We here at McGrooder’s Family Restaurant want you to know that we care about you. And we would never try to hurt anyone in our beloved community. Rest assured that if McGrooder’s were to theoretically receive some kind of random letter grade, let’s say an F, for health code violations then I would immediately shut down the restaurant and fix whatever feces/mold/blood stained seats related problem the restaurant had.
This is a family restaurant, first and foremost. And there is one thing that family honors most: honesty. Now, can I honestly say that our restaurant is always 100% spotless? No. But can I say that fewer than three rats have given birth in our kitchen? Why yes, I can say very confidently that fewer than three female super rats have given birth in the pans where we cook our tomato sauce. And that is something that we here at McGrooder’s take a lot of pride in.
I know what you are probably thinking now: “Why don’t you just put up the grade you got in the window if it isn’t bad?” I am not going to say that we struck a deal with the Health Department that allows us to stay open as long as we put up a personal letter that explicitly states our grade. But I will say that we Find that Family comes First and all of our customers are Family and that Family isn’t about grades; it is about being together Forever. So, say we did get an F rating and the restaurant is currently under investigation for breeding super rats? We know our family wouldn’t let that affect how they felt about us. And that is why we love them.
Let’s face it, everyone finds hair in his or her mozzarella sticks once in a while. And I think we can all agree that it is very hard to differentiate between pizza dough and asbestos that has fallen from the ceiling. And you pretty much have to be some kind of warlock to make sure every dish is clean. Also it isn’t like I go to your house and judge everything you do. If you can rub one out on your couch and eat there too then I can do the same in my booths. We all have to take a moment to realize that we have all ingested at least a small amount of ejaculate at some point or another in our lives. You know that statistic that says you will eat around eight spiders in your sleep every year? Well, the same statistic applies here except the spiders are male ejaculate and instead of sleeping you are having a meatball sub at a local family restaurant.
So, that is all we wanted to say here at McGrooder’s. We value are being able to be open and candid with our customers and make our relationship more friendly than business related. So let’s just forget about this whole thing and make sure to come on down to McGrooders and bring the whole family. We will have a nice hot meal waiting for you and we promise to do something about the overwhelming stench from the dead homeless guy out in the alley.
Best Wishes and Love,
McGrooder’s Staff and Management
I know what you think of me. I hear your little nicknames for me: “The Fortress,” “The Cubes,” “The Bloc,” “Castle Grayskull.” I see the way the tour guides make little jokes and usher away prospective students before anyone can look at me too long. Well, you fuckers don’t know balls about shit.
What? You spend thirty minutes in one art history class and suddenly you think you’re Frank Fucking Gehry? You have no idea what you’re talking about. You couldn’t tell a Gothic building from Bauhaus if you had your head shoved right up its buttresses. Sorry? What was that? Something about me looking boring? Gosh, I guess it’s hard to hear you with your mouth full of Johnny Ive’s minimalist cock. But hey, I don’t take it personally. Because I know this isn’t about me; it’s about you.
(Source: College Humor)
When you gotta go, you gotta go. And then after you go, you gotta jump back into the public pool. Obviously.
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Dear People Who Write Open Letters on the Internet,
Stop. Shut up. You aren’t charming and I hate you.
Let’s start with the obvious. Most people will agree that the most annoying thing about your open letters is the gall of your presumption that everyone reading is automatically in total agreement with you. Like just because they stumbled upon something you wrote on a website, they’re gonna back up your obnoxious opinions! It’s ridiculous, right?
And let’s not forget the sheer audacity of expecting that people looove your glorious prose so much that they’d be honored to read something you write that isn’t even directed at them. I bet you use really poetic language too. Yes, we’re all clamoring for the chance to push our metaphorical glass against the wall of your mind to listen in on the glistening brain nuggets you dole out into our outstretched beggar’s hands. Pathetic.
Oh, and that’s another thing- you always act like you’re just remembering additional complaints in the middle of your letter, instead of carefully planning when to deploy them. REALBELIEVABLE.
Which reminds me, that’s another thing that’s terrible about open letters: something about the form seems to invite you, the author, to just toss around caps lock willy-nilly as if the reader is already sympathetic to whatever stupidly emotional thing you’re feeling in the moment. I hate it! FUCK CAPS LOCK!!
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