Dear Ghetto Rats living in the neighboring property,
While I’m certain you felt you were the absolute shizzle the other night when you parked your jacked up mini-van in the cul-de-sac outside my bedroom window and proceeded to party redneck style at 2:30am, I for one most certainly DID NOT. And I am fairly certain that the hundreds of other people you also so rudely disturbed weren’t singing your praises either.
Now I’m guessing that you probably love cranking your old and worn out “Now That’s What I Call Music” CD from five years ago on your shitty little stereo system and opening your vehicle doors so that everyone in a three mile radius can enjoy an impromptu concert while you shit-for-brains wankers get your drunk ass groves on. The rest of us, not so much.
Some of us, meaning those who weren’t a part of your scummy little trailer trash shindig, were busy trying to do important things like sleep, watch porn or draft church sermons for the following morning. Therefore, your sheer inconsideration and gluteolacunosity were most certainly NOT appreciated.
Should anything like this ever happen in the future then I shall be forced to unleash the hounds of hell and go kung-fu on your asses. Don’t make me tell you again.
Regards,
The Empress
