Dear Letting Agents, You Corrupt, Slime-Mongering Vampires

Repent for your sins!

With the credit crunch forcing cash-strapped Britons to abandon ownership of their shoebox-sized homes for actual shoe boxes, nobody is happier than you, the stygian-souled Letting Agent.

“Wait,” you say. “I provide an essential service that assists both inept landlords and overwhelmed tenants navigate the all-too tasking world of property lettings.”

Ha. What wretched things you must imagine while you pleasure yourself to sleep on a huge pile of your victims’ sorrow.

I’ll always remember the way “Bruce” showed me around the “suite” mentioning the extra-environmental heating system, the new coat of paint, the brand new furnishings… then casually mentioning the small matter of the agency fee: £240… for 15 minutes of “work.” Ah, that’s how you can afford that new BMW.

It should provide me a bit of solace to think that a few people are profiting off the misfortune of others… but it doesn’t.

Cheers,

Fergis T. McGillicuddy

Dear Lululemon “Manifesto”

Recently, a bag told me what to do and what to think. I thought it made some ballsy assertions. Though this is obviously a “wall poster,” one can purchase the same misguided philosophy on a “shoulder bag.”

1. Do one thing a day that scares you.

I just tried crack. Does that count? I had to go to a really freaky part of town to buy it.

2. Jealousy works the opposite way you want it to.

What does this even mean? Never end your sentences with a preposition.

3. Life is full of set backs. Success is determined by how you handle setbacks.

This is basically a description of basic economics re-interpreted through the eyes of a new-age marketing department. A sports company could put “the best way to win a game is to score more goals than your opponent” onto their bags. But even hockey players know better.

Here’s some mental jujitsu for you:

4. Don’t trust that an old-age pension will be sufficient. 

Damn right, especially if I’m buying clothes at Lululemon. I better start working 24/7 and my job is so stressful…

5. Stress is related to 99% of illness.

The highly trained medical staff (even the people who take out the garbage at Lululemon have extensive scientific credentials. It’s a little known fact those “yoga studios” are top shelf medical research facilities.) have changed my life! I’m going to quit my job that is obviously conspiring to end my life to do yoga all day. Which will be easy because…

6. Friends are more important than money.

I get it now. I just need to pour my hot bum into a pair of seamless yoga pants and get somebody wealthy enough to pay my way through life. Live Lulu!

7. Listen, listen, listen, and then ask strategic questions.  

Having heard, heard, heard, I’ll ask this question: “Do you actually believe this crap?”

Sincerely,

Fergis T. McGillicuddy

To Those Lame 25 Questions Forwards People Keep Sending Me

Because there’s hundreds of these in my mailbox, here are some things about me (culled from the best of the worst forwards):

1. What’s your favourite thing to do?: Curse those that send lame e-mail forwards with voodoo hexes. It’s amazing how much blood pours from the head of a virgin goat.

2. Is there something purple within five feet of you?: Only the bruised face of somebody I know who sent me an e-mail forward.

3. Current Disappointments?: I haven’t bludgeoned anyone who’s forwarded a vain, self-effacing question list today. However, I just got up.

4. What came first, the chicken or the egg?: A disgusting half-egg/half-chicken creature gnawing on the skull of fools that waste their time with circular logic problems.

5.What do you want people to remember about you when you die?: That I gave their e-mail addresses to shady internet ponzi schemes because they felt they needed to share more of themselves with me. Who’s sharing now? A militant Nigerian sharing your banking information with his associates in various terrorist organizations. NSA will be taking you to your new summer camp in Guantanamo Bay shortly after reading this sentence for supporting the War on Freedom. Enjoy.

Sincerely,

Fergis T. McGillicuddy