Hey, remember that one weekend where Catwoman and I were taken on a wild ride, ditched and shafted by a bunch of drunken morons who claimed to be in a band? A band signed with “a major label” who claimed to live in a $10 million house in Hollywood Hills and money to burn who said that $300 was a drop in the bucket to them? They still haven’t paid us. In fact, they’ve been playing the “let’s ignore them and see if they disappear” trick with us, so I guess a few hundred dollars really is a big deal to them. They must be afraid to break open their little piggy banks, aww. Anyway, after Catwoman kept emailing them (after sending an invoice and setting a deadline, after which there would be late fees), the dipwad in charge finally wrote back. It made me so angry, this self-righteous douchebaggery that trust fund hipsters own in spades because they’ve never wanted anything, that I’m going to pull out a very old trick of mine. You get to read Mr. Douchebag’s letter, but with a running commentary. Think of it as a literary Mystery Science Theater 3000. And if you’ve never seen that show, I weep for you. I really truly do. Anyway:
(more…)

Tags: , , , ,