Dear John Mayer,

You sing about wonderland bodies, and used to come across with that boy next door charm. Your shaggy hair all mussied up, I can understand your appeal to the average high school and college girl. Hell, you even charmed Jennifer Aniston who’s got a solid 10 years on you. She should have known better. You serenaded the lucky girls in your videos, plucking not only your guitar strings but also their heart strings. I get all the reasons girls have thought up to make you dreamy, but yet I’m still totally baffled.

John Mayer, have they not seen you actually sing? Not video sing because that’s all pretend anyways. But really sing, when you actually have to apply your talent? Your face gets all distorted and it’s somewhere between having a stroke and blowing your load. It scares me. I’m not sure whether to shield the young girls eyes or call an ambulance.

I get that you swiped your entire act from Dave Matthews. I can understand that basically paved the way for you and your college rock sound. I also acknowledge that he too makes funny faces when he sings. But his look like really awkward tense smiles. Do you see the difference here?

You = creepy sexual stroke guy

Him = awkward smile south african dood.

Also, your tattoo sleeve is working wonders for your douchebag persona you got going on.

That’s about all I have to say. Keep on creepin on, John Mayer, you smarmy, smarmy bastard.




fuck you veet.


dear veet,

oh you tricky mistress. you seemed like such a good idea at the time, and lured me in with your snow scraper looking hair removal device. who can resist that? your marketing people are gooood. the idea of not having to really shave was so attractive i took a chance. who wants to get nicked by shoddy razors (noxema, i’m looking at you dood). i was so excited to go home and spray you on and give you my 3-10 minutes of wait time. i waited patiently even though you stunk up my bathroom with your horrible fumes. i sat through the tingling sensation building in my legs. hell, i even waited through the somewhat burning sensation, all while keeping my arms in the air because you were gonna work on my armpits too. i waited 6 minutes first thinking nothing actually ever happens in 3 minutes short of pregnancy tests. i used your snow scraper and there was still hair! you took me from long stubble to short stubble. i sprayed a little more on, and gave you another 10 minutes. same result. at this point i knew you were nothing more than a lying whore looking to trick me out of my money. i scraped you off and took a shower. do you know what i did in that shower? i shaved. and you know what else? my armpits knew i cheated and decided not to give me a clean shave. my legs were far more forgiving, even after shedding blood. so veet, i’m done with you. you shall remain in the closet with all the other forgotten products that did not live up to the hype. perhaps you can all start a support group for one another. i don’t really care what you do, but you will not be stinking and stinging up the place anymore.