George Bush: Eff U N R A.

This relic was discovered by William Hunter, the Curator of The Dot Eaters: Video Game History 101, an awesome source for the history of video games (am I being redundant?). Hey Bill, I hear there’s a new game starring his son, it’s called Grand Theft Oil! How could I not?

Letter of Resignation Sent By George Bush to the National Rifle Association May 3, 1995

Dear Mr. Washington,

I was outraged when, even in the wake of the Oklahoma City tragedy, Mr. Wayne LaPierre, executive vice president of N.R.A., defended his attack on federal agents as “jack-booted thugs.” To attack Secret Service agents or A.T.F. people or any government law enforcement people as “wearing Nazi bucket helmets and black storm trooper uniforms” wanting to “attack law abiding citizens” is a vicious slander on good people.

Al Whicher, who served on my [ United States Secret Service ] detail when I was Vice President and President, was killed in Oklahoma City. He was no Nazi. He was a kind man, a loving parent, a man dedicated to serving his country — and serve it well he did.

In 1993, I attended the wake for A.T.F. agent Steve Willis, another dedicated officer who did his duty. I can assure you that this honorable man, killed by weird cultists, was no Nazi.

John Magaw, who used to head the U.S.S.S. and now heads A.T.F., is one of the most principled, decent men I have ever known. He would be the last to condone the kind of illegal behavior your ugly letter charges. The same is true for the F.B.I.’s able Director Louis Freeh. I appointed Mr. Freeh to the Federal Bench. His integrity and honor are beyond question.

Both John Magaw and Judge Freeh were in office when I was President. They both now serve in the current administration. They both have badges. Neither of them would ever give the government’s “go ahead to harass, intimidate, even murder law abiding citizens.” (Your words)

I am a gun owner and an avid hunter. Over the years I have agreed with most of N.R.A.’s objectives, particularly your educational and training efforts, and your fundamental stance in favor of owning guns.

However, your broadside against Federal agents deeply offends my own sense of decency and honor; and it offends my concept of service to country. It indirectly slanders a wide array of government law enforcement officials, who are out there, day and night, laying their lives on the line for all of us.

You have not repudiated Mr. LaPierre’s unwarranted attack. Therefore, I resign as a Life Member of N.R.A., said resignation to be effective upon your receipt of this letter. Please remove my name from your membership list. Sincerely, [ signed ] George Bush

Published by New York Times May 11, 1995



















March 2, 2010


Eff You. Thank You, Cee Lo.

YouTube player

Fuck You

I see you driving ’round town
With the girl i love and i’m like,
Fuck you!
Oo, oo, ooo
I guess the change in my pocket
Wasn’t enough i’m like,
Fuck you!
And fuck her too!
I said, if i was richer, i’d still be with ya
Ha, now ain’t that some shit? (ain’t that some shit?)
And although there’s pain in my chest
I still wish you the best with a…
Fuck you!
Oo, oo, ooo

Yeah i’m sorry, i can’t afford a ferrari,
But that don’t mean i can’t get you there.
I guess he’s an xbox and i’m more atari,
But the way you play your game ain’t fair.

I picture the fool that falls in love with you
(oh shit she’s a gold digger)
(just thought you should know nigga)
I’ve got some news for you
Yeah go run and tell your little boyfriend


Now i know, that i had to borrow,
Beg and steal and lie and cheat.
Trying to keep ya, trying to please ya.
‘Cause being in love with you ass ain’t cheap.

I picture the fool that falls in love with you
(oh shit she’s a gold digger)
(just thought you should know nigga)
I’ve got some news for you
i really hate yo ass right now

Now baby, baby, baby, why d’you wanna wanna hurt me so bad?

(so bad, so bad, so bad)
I tried to tell my mamma but she told me
“this is one for your dad”
(your dad, your dad, your dad)
Uh! Whhhy? Uh! Whhhy? Uh!
Whhhy lady? Oh! I love you oh!
I still love you. Oooh!


You’ll Regret You Lost Me.

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

At first when you called me 2 years ago, I was extremely happy, confused, and somewhat surprised that you thought about me -and even got my number..It had been 4 years since I had heard from you when I left that boarding school. I loved how we talked, we got along, caught up, and I felt so bad for my at the time boyfriend, I broke up with him for you. I ask you if you had a gf, you said no. I look on facebook, it claims you’re married to some chick and she’s writing all over your wall. I let it go, and you said you had ‘taken care of it’. You put me through hell for the whole of 2010-2011 year. You pushed me and pulled me, you made me feel like the best thing that’s happened to you, then you’d make me feel like I’m the scum of the Earth. And I allowed that! When we finally got together in 2012, I thought things would be right, but something did not sit right in my heart..I knew you still had feelings for her, but I had given up so much there was no way I was going to lose you. I gave you my everything, and you still continued to LIE to me, like I’m worth nothing. All those times I’d text you and you’d barely text back, barely call me, couldn’t even at least ADD me on Facebook…That said a lot. It really said a lot. Then you decide to tell me that ‘you still have feelings for her, you’ve been meaning to tell me but you knew i’d be hurt’ Well, you should’ve told me A REALLY LONG TIME AGO before I gave you EVERYTHING. You then have the audacity to ask me to help you win her back, and since I LOVED you, I was kind enough to say yes. And she disrespects the hell out of me, and you don’t even try to set her straight, or even at least back me up! You just took her side and said I was crazy. I was being immature. You fucking hurt me. After ALL that I’ve done for you, all the patience I had for the past 2 years, THAT is how you repaid me? You know what, even though I still think about that situation, I’m glad we’re not together. I still think about how much you hurt me. I want to get rid of this pain, but it’s so gosh damn hard! I cannot believe I fell for your lies. And thank you for being a dick because now I know; in order to love a good guy, you have to love a couple of assholes first. I’m so glad I’m free of you. I changed my number, blocked you on facebook, twitter, skype, oovoo and even changed my e-mail address. There’s no way you’ll EVER get ahold of me now. I don’t EVER want to hear from you again. And I know karma will come bite you and your girlfriend in the ass. You will truly be sorry for everything you put me thorugh, and you’ll wonder ‘why are all these bad things happening to me?’ Because of you, I’ve learned to be stronger, wiser, more level headed, and become more suspicious of men. Because of you, I have hope in the world that there are better guys out there than you. I will find a guy that is TWICE the man you were. Shit, you weren’t even a man, you’re a BOY. I do not wish you the best in life. I do not wish you happiness. I want you to feel pain before you can even begin to know what happiness and love feel like. You can go to hell. You can go fuck yourself. I will find a man that is so much more deserving of my affection, my time, my love, my kindness. I do thank you in a way because you’ve taught me a lot of lessons about assholes and now I can definitely spot an asshole when I see one. So deuces to your sorry ass. I’m moving on with my life. I’ll become successful, I’ll become happy, I’ll become everything I intend to be, and one day you’ll be sorry you ever took me for granted, and treated me like I’m nothing. So, fuck you, and go rot in hell along with your rude, obnoxious, immature 23 year old girlfriend who acts like an 18 year old. You’ll regret you lost me one day.

Sincerely yours,




[Written just as he dictated it.]

Dayton, Ohio, August 7, 1865.

To my old Master, Colonel P. H. Anderson, Big Spring, Tennessee.

Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten Jourdon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again, promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never heard about your going to Colonel Martin’s to kill the Union soldier that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and am glad you are still living. It would do me good to go back to the dear old home again, and see Miss Mary and Miss Martha and Allen, Esther, Green, and Lee. Give my love to them all, and tell them I hope we will meet in the better world, if not in this. I would have gone back to see you all when I was working in the Nashville Hospital, but one of the neighbors told me that Henry intended to shoot me if he ever got a chance.

I want to know particularly what the good chance is you propose to give me. I am doing tolerably well here. I get twenty-five dollars a month, with victuals and clothing; have a comfortable home for Mandy,—the[266] folks call her Mrs. Anderson,—and the children—Milly, Jane, and Grundy—go to school and are learning well. The teacher says Grundy has a head for a preacher. They go to Sunday school, and Mandy and me attend church regularly. We are kindly treated. Sometimes we overhear others saying, “Them colored people were slaves” down in Tennessee. The children feel hurt when they hear such remarks; but I tell them it was no disgrace in Tennessee to belong to Colonel Anderson. Many darkeys would have been proud, as I used to be, to call you master. Now if you will write and say what wages you will give me, I will be better able to decide whether it would be to my advantage to move back again.

As to my freedom, which you say I can have, there is nothing to be gained on that score, as I got my free papers in 1864 from the Provost-Marshal-General of the Department of Nashville. Mandy says she would be afraid to go back without some proof that you were disposed to treat us justly and kindly; and we have concluded to test your sincerity by asking you to send us our wages for the time we served you. This will make us forget and forgive old scores, and rely on your justice and friendship in the future. I served you faithfully for thirty-two years, and Mandy twenty years. At twenty-five dollars a month for me, and two dollars a week for Mandy, our earnings would amount to eleven thousand six hundred and eighty dollars. Add to this the interest for the time our wages have been kept back, and deduct what you paid for our clothing, and three doctor’s visits to me, and pulling a tooth for Mandy, and the balance will show what we are in justice entitled to. Please send the money by Adams’s Express, in care of V. Winters, Esq.,[267] Dayton, Ohio. If you fail to pay us for faithful labors in the past, we can have little faith in your promises in the future. We trust the good Maker has opened your eyes to the wrongs which you and your fathers have done to me and my fathers, in making us toil for you for generations without recompense. Here I draw my wages every Saturday night; but in Tennessee there was never any pay-day for the negroes any more than for the horses and cows. Surely there will be a day of reckoning for those who defraud the laborer of his hire.

In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls. You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay here and starve—and die, if it come to that—than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.

Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.

From your old servant,
Jourdon Anderson.


Source: The Freedmen’s Book by L. Maria Child

I Can’t Get Over You Getting Over Me


It was a title match

I was a twelfth-round knock-out

I wasn’t morning sun

But you were a midnight black-out


You took me up and down

On your rollercoaster

Less up than down

But I would have killed anyone for you


And I can’t get over you getting over me

And I can’t get over you getting over me


You were a marathon

That left me so exhausted

Body and mind

And thoroughly disgusted with myself


When you’d say jump

Everyone was at your service

And when you got that look

You made everybody nervous


And I can’t get over you getting over me

And I can’t get over you getting over me



Maybe I stayed too long

And then I couldn’t wait to escape

Maybe I left too soon

And you were just about to change


And I can’t get over you getting over me

And I can’t get over you getting over me


You left me twisted

More broken than bent

Is the new guy a prince

Does he like your stupid friends?


I’m still wounded

And I can’t stop the bleeding

I apply pressure

But I still regret not cheating that one time


And I can’t get over you getting over me

And I can’t get over you getting over me

And I can’t get over you getting over me

And I can’t get over you getting over me




I Can’t Get Over You Getting Over Me

Words and Music by Chad Gendron 2011


I HATE YOU: a letter to my ex

You hurt me so bad! I’m having trouble breathing. No one was as close to me as you except my mom, and even she didn’t know all my secrets.
You let my birthday go by ignored, which wasn’t surprising, but it did prove how you didn’t really want to be friends after all. I don’t know your previous intentions and I won’t second guess them now, but just by judging your actions alone, you don’t care about me.
Why didn’t I trust my instincts? You kept lying to me, telling me crap bs, stupid promises and declarations of love that were based on the moment and not your true heart. I should have listened to my 11th grade history teacher who told me to use my head to make decisions based on the facts only. But my heart wanted to believe you cared. I guess in this case my heart was wrong.
I have a date next week and it feels like I’m cheating on you. He has a lot in common with you, actually, which sucks. He’s black and a sci fi geek, except he’s more warm and expressive, which you lacked (you were a cold douche bag).
He even sent me a birthday card (without me having to hope) and wants to do something special for me. After being with you so long, that’s a first. I hope I can learn how to handle being with a person who knows how to treat me right!
Yes, you did nice things, but I realize those acts were driven by obligation and a sense of guilt, not passion. You’re an ass for acting like I was such a burden to you and blaming me for your problems.
Today I really hate you. I don’t even like your ugly name. It rhymes with pee and it’s just as stinky. You are holding me back and you aren’t even here!
It’s amazing how I can hate someone so much that I used to love. The thought of you repulses me—you with another woman, telling her your crap lies as you use her for sex. You’re probably with someone like Jamie, because you ____________ brothers are masochistic weenies who get off on women who cheat, call you names, and humiliate you. I never did those things to you and you treat me like garbage.
I guess I should laugh at you in front of your family and put you down like L does to your brother D (who is such a wimp…I liked him but he lets his wife walk all over him and he actually prefers to LIKE it that way).
Next time I am going to stay away from you a-hole “nice guys” and your “long-suffering” (as you characterized yourself) ways.
Ya’ll just want someone to blame for being irresponsible, so you can hide behind their apron, you wimp!
I hope you get kicked out of college; you deserve it for playing videogames instead of doing your assignments. You always lied to your professors and told them you had some kind of emergency. You’re full of it.
I know I deserve better than you and everyone knows that. They know what a jerk you are. E even said she wouldn’t put it past you to have a booty call; she never trusted you. Funny how I was so blind. I feel like such a fool for letting you manipulate me by acting like I was incapable of choosing my own outfits, meals, and everything else. You even put down my writing.
I just got accepted to a professional writing school, little do you know…

Eat that, you bum!


Editor’s Note:

Here’s a book that might help:

The 12 Step “Relationship” Detox Program: A Girl’s Guide to Help Regroup, Rethink, and Rediscover Herself After a Bad Break-Up

Here’s a song that might help:

Carrie Underwood: Some Hearts (Track 7: Before He Cheats. The rest of the album may or may not cheer you up.)

And if all else fails, here’s a movie you might find fun:

The Last House on the Left (Unrated Edition)

God damn you, Old Abe Lincoln

Fillmore La November 25th, 1860

Old Abe Lincoln,

God damn you god damned old Hellfired god damned soul to hell god damn you and goddam your god damned family’s god damned hellfired god damned soul to hell and god damnation god damn them and god damn your god damn friends to hell god damn their god damned souls to damnation god damn them and god damn their god damn families to eternal god damnation god damn souls to hell god damn them and God Almighty God damn Old Hamlin to[o] to hell God damn his God damned soul all over everywhere double damn his God damned soul to hell.

Now you God damned old Abolition son of a bitch God damn you I want you to send me God damn you about one dozen good offices Good God Almighty God damn your God damned soul and three or four pretty Gals God damn you.

And by doing God damn you you

Will Oblige

Pete Muggins

From Dear Mr. Lincoln: Letters to the President

Happy Valentines Day, Abe?

February 14, 1861


Mr. Abe Lincoln

if you don’t Resign we are going to put a spider in your dumpling and play the Devil with you you god or mighty god dam sundde of a bith go to hell and buss my Ass suck my prick and call my Bolics your uncle Dick god dam a fool and goddam Abe Lincoln who would like you goddam you excuse me for using such hard words with you but you need it you are nothing but a goddam Black n—-r

yours &c

Mr. A.G. Frick

Tennessee Missouri Kentucky Virginia N. Carolina and Arkansas is going to secede Glory be to god on high

From Dear Mr. Lincoln: Letters to the President