April 17, 2010

An Open Letter to Mr. 8D

Dear Douchebag,

         Did it ever occur to you as you sat next to me for two hours on a cramped commuter plane that maybe you could share the armrest for at least two fucking minutes?  No.  Obviously it did not.  Since you not only hogged it the entire time but it took you two fucking hours to read the Wall Street Journal, hitting me with every page turn.  Seriously?  Maybe next time you could at least wear long sleeves so I don't have to lean out in the aisle to avoid your disgusting arm hair.  I suspect, you are indeed, a gorilla.  A dumb gorilla.

         And while we're on the subject, please keep your legs on your side of the plane.  You are not a linebacker and you don't need to sit with your legs wide open pushing me further into the aisle.  What kind of Neanderthal sits like that anyway?  Oh that's right, gorillas sit like that.  And if that weren't bad enough, quit thump thump thumping your leg against mine.  It was very hard for me not to outright kick you but I didn't think you'd actually receive the message.

       So, in closing, SUCK IT seat 8D!  I hope to never sit next to an inconsiderate d-bag like you again, but I know the odds are against me since there are so many of you in the world.

                                                                               Yours truly,
                                                                                Seat 8C



  1. Too bad you didn't have a wicked case of gas. ;)

  2. And your stink eye didn't work? He is tough!! And gross. And annoying...



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