Pikey At The Gates
P'OP NOTE: I upgraded to the new version of Blogger and now half of my old posts have turned into...long story short, this is an old post reviewed because Blogger is shit.
An open letter to the stupid ratshit cunt of a man that keeps kicking in my flat door and stealing useless dead letter junk mail from the post-boxes:
Dear Sir / Madam / Shitbag Pikey Fuckhole,
I must apologise for being forced to break the criminal genius / victim silence that traditionally exists in these situations, however I feel you have left me little recourse.
First, let me start by saying that I have enjoyed our brief acquaintance immensely. You have been the source of great amusement to myself and my flatmate over such recent break-ins as "Retard Pikey Screws Up Again" and "Inbreeding Prevents Learned Behaviour", but I feel the time has come to explain a few things.
You see, Shitrape, and I must apologise if Shitrape isn't your given name, but we do have yet to be formally introduced, so please feel free to substitute Shitrape with whatever name you wish. In fact, by all means write your full name and address on the bottom of this sheet of paper if you want to improve the accuracy of my future communication. However, I digress...
You see, Shitrape, in our country, post is traditionally delivered mid-morning. Your recent liasons with our front door have happened, exclusively, in that period we call "night". Whilst an amusing social comment on the state of our Royal Mail, your behaviour is at least borderline retarded. The mail has fucking gone, Einsteinique.
Frankly, I cannot imagine what you hope to achieve by stealing mail which is no longer present. Do you consider yourself an artist, making a bold statement about the duality of man? If so, please carry out your work elsewhere as you are now becoming tiresome and I do not care for art. Ask that fucking bitch Dali if you don't believe me.
If of course, your behaviour is a failed attempt at theft, then I must speak clearly. You are what can only be considered a Pikey, and an above (or below) averagely stupid Pikey at that. My dislike of your kind is measurable only by the most talented criminal psychologist. When this is added to my pathological distaste for stupidity, which you show what can only be described as a surfeit of, you really are in uncharted waters with the kind of death I wish you. I truly hope to see you roasted to death over rat and bile filled petrol, whilst I throw pieces of your dead children at you as quickly as the rabid dog can excrete them.
However, this is unlikely to occur naturally, or be of much appeal to you, so I offer you the following compromise: You stop being such a fucktard and stop trying to steal post which no one else wants. In return, I will make no further attempts to hunt you down and bring you to my special kind of "justice".
If you feel you cannot live with this offer, please indicate as such by breaking in one further time. I must warn you however, that at some point I will be waiting. Waiting with a mobile phone to call the police. Sorry, I jest.
Waiting with a Super Soaker filled with acid and a carving knife. Waiting with a Samurai sword. Waiting with a pool cue. Well, I'll spare the details for a later communiqué, but I'm sure you get the idea.
Actually, you won't get the idea. You are a retarded little shit of a man who is probably only coming here to get a rest from fucking the shit out of your sister who is also your pet rabbit, so I'll say this in words you'll understand some of:
Stay the fuck away from this fucking flat otherwise I am going to beat the shit out of you. You are a stupid, cock loving, dipshit who should stick to stealing from me the traditional way, via the DSS. Don't try to expand your horizons to crime as you are clearly not up to the task. Please die, or otherwise remove yourself from our once great gene-pool.
Yours,
Peter O'Phile
PO'P NOTE: Left in Peter O'Phile's post-box recently.
An open letter to the stupid ratshit cunt of a man that keeps kicking in my flat door and stealing useless dead letter junk mail from the post-boxes:
Dear Sir / Madam / Shitbag Pikey Fuckhole,
I must apologise for being forced to break the criminal genius / victim silence that traditionally exists in these situations, however I feel you have left me little recourse.
First, let me start by saying that I have enjoyed our brief acquaintance immensely. You have been the source of great amusement to myself and my flatmate over such recent break-ins as "Retard Pikey Screws Up Again" and "Inbreeding Prevents Learned Behaviour", but I feel the time has come to explain a few things.
You see, Shitrape, and I must apologise if Shitrape isn't your given name, but we do have yet to be formally introduced, so please feel free to substitute Shitrape with whatever name you wish. In fact, by all means write your full name and address on the bottom of this sheet of paper if you want to improve the accuracy of my future communication. However, I digress...
You see, Shitrape, in our country, post is traditionally delivered mid-morning. Your recent liasons with our front door have happened, exclusively, in that period we call "night". Whilst an amusing social comment on the state of our Royal Mail, your behaviour is at least borderline retarded. The mail has fucking gone, Einsteinique.
Frankly, I cannot imagine what you hope to achieve by stealing mail which is no longer present. Do you consider yourself an artist, making a bold statement about the duality of man? If so, please carry out your work elsewhere as you are now becoming tiresome and I do not care for art. Ask that fucking bitch Dali if you don't believe me.
If of course, your behaviour is a failed attempt at theft, then I must speak clearly. You are what can only be considered a Pikey, and an above (or below) averagely stupid Pikey at that. My dislike of your kind is measurable only by the most talented criminal psychologist. When this is added to my pathological distaste for stupidity, which you show what can only be described as a surfeit of, you really are in uncharted waters with the kind of death I wish you. I truly hope to see you roasted to death over rat and bile filled petrol, whilst I throw pieces of your dead children at you as quickly as the rabid dog can excrete them.
However, this is unlikely to occur naturally, or be of much appeal to you, so I offer you the following compromise: You stop being such a fucktard and stop trying to steal post which no one else wants. In return, I will make no further attempts to hunt you down and bring you to my special kind of "justice".
If you feel you cannot live with this offer, please indicate as such by breaking in one further time. I must warn you however, that at some point I will be waiting. Waiting with a mobile phone to call the police. Sorry, I jest.
Waiting with a Super Soaker filled with acid and a carving knife. Waiting with a Samurai sword. Waiting with a pool cue. Well, I'll spare the details for a later communiqué, but I'm sure you get the idea.
Actually, you won't get the idea. You are a retarded little shit of a man who is probably only coming here to get a rest from fucking the shit out of your sister who is also your pet rabbit, so I'll say this in words you'll understand some of:
Stay the fuck away from this fucking flat otherwise I am going to beat the shit out of you. You are a stupid, cock loving, dipshit who should stick to stealing from me the traditional way, via the DSS. Don't try to expand your horizons to crime as you are clearly not up to the task. Please die, or otherwise remove yourself from our once great gene-pool.
Yours,
Peter O'Phile
PO'P NOTE: Left in Peter O'Phile's post-box recently.
posted by Peter O'Phile at
11:28 am
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