A letter to Matt and Adam

Why must you guys continue to pester us? We leave Matt alone, and he still does all his old shit. His existance is so goddamn inane that he has to post messages and then masturbate to the thought of how much he kicks ass by posting such thought-provoking messages. What a wonderful life he lives. What does calling us fags do, Matt? Does it make you feel better? Feel badder? Feel like you're more than we are? Somehow, I just can't see how calling us fags is cool, when we proclaim ourselves as fags. Then, you have to get Adam to help you along. What help is Adam? Does he help you come up with new synonyms for "fag"? Aah, I forgot, he robs my house because you're too afraid to. And, like I said before, anytime either of you wanna beat my ass, you know where I live. And, from what it sounds like, you know exactly where my bedroom is. However, I can't make too many assumptions, since I don't have reliable "sources" like Matt has. Because Matt never distorts a story. Well, none, except for every one he tells. I think your intelligence is only surpased by your ability to tell the truth. I never called the cops on you, Matt. I didn't get you kicked out of school - you just stopped going on your own. Are you so insecure that you have to blame your actions on others? Also, when I got beat up at school, I wasn't going to the bathroom - and I was beat up while the kid's friend held the bathroom door shut. I bet you wish you could be as badass as he is. Learn what actually goes on, Matt, before lying about it all. And Adam, if only I could be as cool as you. You are so cool. I hope that when I'm 19, I can leave a good job and free rent to come home to live with my shitty parents so that I can be whipped into oblivion by a girl who sleeps all day and has sex with her cousin. But it wouldn't be complete unless I worked the night shift at Meijer, only to come back home to a shitty car to take my girlfriend to and from school, then sit around on her couch all day, masturbating at the thought of GameCube, thinking I'm the Don Mega because I'm friends with a high school freshman. I wish my existence was as wonderful as yours. You kick ASS! And Matt, after you get done performing cunnilingus on a three-dollar hooker (because even she wouldn't screw your fat ass, and that's the closest you'll ever get to some poon), please go back to nightschool and learn some grammar so you can sound sophisticated when transferring trichomoniasis between big fat hoochie mommas from Silverwood. Just a word of advice from your neighborhood asshole. Have a good day!