Real American Rant

Dear Sir, actually that may be a bit misleading…How about Dear blind dumb fat-fuck?

I understand that times are difficult at present and you may be doing this simply due to lack of options. So, if that’s the case, I’m willing to give you a few tips and let you know what you did incorrectly yesterday when you materialized on my doorstep.

First tip: Pay attention to everything (anything) around you.

For instance, you walked up to my doorstep past several things that probably should have garnered your attention. There were two vehicles in the driveway with United States Marine Corps license plates on them. That’s a clue that the occupant of the house is probably not in the mood for your training crap, or anything else, for that matter. I also have a cute little bronze yard sign that says “Non-religious occupant exercises his Second Amendment rights – Religiously!” That would have been your second clue that I was not in the mood for your horseshit. The third thing, and probably most important given your current employment choice, the large “No Soliciting” sign next to my front door.

These things taken separately would probably point toward the fact that there is a highly-trained, slightly quirky, no bullshit guy in the house. Instead you, in your obvious zeal for your new-found profession, saw opportunity. Well, God bless America. Tell you what, if you admit that you probably could have made better choices in regard to this particular sales attempt, I’ll admit that I freely volunteered six years of my life to defend your right to be an absolute dumbass. Deal?

I’m not sure whether or not you are aware that in the state of Colorado we have what is commonly referred to as the “make my day” law. It basically says that if I feel you are a threat to my family I can blow your balls off. I’m assuming, of course, that you are familiar with the Second Amendment. Probably a stretch but if you’re reading this you can look it up. You probably don’t feel as if you were being a threat, let me explain something that you may not know since you look about five minutes older than my teenage son. When you have kids, everything is a threat. For instance, if I were to, by some absolute miracle of unabashed stupidity, actually purchase from you the nice shiny plastic piece of foreign shit you were peddling, my eight year old daughter would not be able to purchase the brand new crack-whore barbie lookalike bratz doll that just came out. This may not sound like a threat to my family in your opinion, however, if you’ve ever heard an eight year old girl scream at the top of her lungs because she doesn’t get her way, well, lets just say I’d rather shoot you.

In the balls.

Twice.

I digress. You happened to show up as I was attempting to order my lunch. I was hungry, very hungry. So I’m gonna throw in a free survival tip for you – Don’t piss off a hungry Marine – ever. I will say you caught me off guard so good on you! Well done. When I answered the door with half of my pizza ordered, my four year old complaining about being hungry and my wife wanting a pizza with fucking spinach on it, I wasn’t quite expecting your twelve year old fat fucking Ruben from American Idol looking ass to be standing there holding a sponge. A sponge? A fucking sponge??? What do you want?

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